W vs O: Enter Darkness
by geeves
Summary: Six months after the tulpa has been destroyed. Sam and Dean are back up in Canada with Cal and Fran enjoying their version of 'normal' until a wedding and some demonic possession gets thrown into the mix. Looks like they're in for one hell of a hunt again
1. Chapter 1

_Okay, so insert all the usual disclaimers here lol... As always I don't own anyhting even remotely related to the show, the boys, the car or the supernatural. Just taking them all on yet another joy ride through my imagination._

_This fic is the third in my Winchester vs O'Sulivan series. If you haven't read the other two chances are you'll get confused. If you have read the other two... well I guess I should warn you that this one's turning out to be quite a bit darker. Seems that as the character development progresses the plot lines and emotional crap I put them through are becoming deeper and darker. _

_Anyhoo... enjoy the read! _

* * *

**_Prologue (teaser)_**

"Cal…you sure about this? 'Cause I'm pretty sure that Dean is going to freak the hell out when he sees you like that…"

Fran was eyeing her friend and the outrageous getup she was wearing. Hair down around her shoulders for a change instead of up in the functional ponytail she wore most of the time, tight blue jeans hugging every curve over the long black boots she liked to wear when they were hunting and this red _thing _that she was trying to pass off as a blouse.

"Of course I'm sure hun…and I _know _he's gonna freak. That's why I called Sam and told them to meet us there." The blouse she had on was a surprise. It was the replacement she'd finally managed to find for the black one Dean had thrown out on her the day after they'd first met. She was in the mood for a little fun after another job well done…a poltergeist this time…and it was their last night out in this little hole-in-the-wall town.

Dean had suggested they go out for a few beers and some pool before heading back home in the morning and Cal figured it was the perfect opportunity she'd been waiting for. It had been a while since she'd been able to raise a little hell.

She was standing at the bar all legs, curves and wavy brown hair. There were close to a dozen men hovering around…some crowding around and fighting for her attention, others hanging back waiting for the crowd to die down to get their chance. _This one's trouble_ was what the bartender was thinking as he watched her expertly handle the men around her. He'd seen girls like her before, usually just passing through and looking for a little fun to bring back to the hotel for the night. Girls who were used to showing a little cleavage and getting whatever they wanted.

Hell, if he were twenty years younger he might've given it a go himself… but he wasn't and so he just poured, mixed and watched her play it out. There was something different about her though. Something more than the average woman out for a little fun.

And then there was that guy. The one with the angry eyes who was obviously hustling _his_ regulars at the pool tables. The bartender would have been a little insulted that he'd try it, but really? Usually it was the local boys hustling cash out of anyone who passed through long enough to stop in and play a game. So if those boys couldn't open their eyes wide enough to see they were being played then he was considering it fair game.

The girl was trouble all right, and she knew exactly what kind of trouble she was there to start. It was in the flirtatious looks she sent every which way to anyone who caught her eye. It was in the dirty, angry glares that guy at the pool tables kept sending her way. The guy was obviously jealous… and the girl? Well she was paying attention to pretty much everyone _but _him. Yeah, she knew what she was doing, who she was after. It was just a matter of time. There'd be a mess to clean up after last call tonight, the bartender was sure of it.

What the hell had she been thinking? He just knew something was up when she'd called _Sam _instead of him. Was she _trying _to drive him insane? Yeah, that had to be it. Cal wanted him to go stark raving mad. The _"ribbon"_ was back…in bright blazing _red _no less. As if the damn thing needed any more attention then it was already getting her…and right now that red was about the _only _color he could see. The guys were a given. No matter what bar they went to she somehow managed to attract them like flies. Of course usually he was okay with it because usually the girls were all over _him _too and Cal was…you know…fully clothed.

She wouldn't even look at him, so there was no satisfaction in the dark, ugly looks he kept sending her way. Damn. And to make matters worse, Franny had led Sam away to a quiet corner of the bar where they were making goo-goo eyes at each other or whatever the heck it was they did when they went off by themselves.

So there he was; hustling pool all by himself, and being forced to watch as the woman flirted with every guy in the place…except _him._ Cal was looking for a bar fight. Dean was sure of it. Probably hoping the first punch would come from her jealous boyfriend… he'd be damned if he was going to give her the satisfaction.

The thing about Cal? Well, she's not exactly what one would call 'patient'. So when she's out looking for trouble and it doesn't come to her right away? Well, she likes to nudge it along a little.

Two and a half hours at the bar and still the only reaction she was getting from Dean was a little angry glaring that she chose to pretend to ignore. It felt like there were holes burning into her back he was staring her down so hard. She was off her game tonight. Usually she'd managed to at least get some sort of smart ass comment by now…Cal had been positive that he'd try to haul her out of the bar as soon as he saw the blouse was back, but _no._ Dude was being stubborn tonight: Refusing to play into her little games.

Yeah, so…time to stir it up a bit eh?

"Any of you boys up for a little pool?" It was an open ended question. Cal didn't wait for an answer, just moved toward the other pool table (the one Dean wasn't using) with a trail of eager men following in her wake. This plan was even better. She could goad Dean _and _make a little cash at the same time. "I've got a twenty that says I can beat any one of you boys at this game…any takers?"

Of course, as it always happened, the biggest guy in the place stepped up and called her on it. Dean watched the guy move in close to her, hand her a twenty and the black plastic triangle…there was just something about the way he'd done it that made Dean's blood boil. "Why don't you rack 'em up sugar, so we can get this show on the road."

Cal just smiled slow and sexy.

Dean stopped breathing when she leaned over the end of the pool table and just _moved_ racking 'em up slow. Yeah, that girl was going to be the death of him. She knew _exactly _what she was doing. Close to two dozen men surrounding the pool tables and not a sound from any of them until Jack, the guy _Dean _was hustling, leaned it next to him and whispered "I'd give just about anything right now for that girl to rack 'em up like that for _me."_ Well, that was it for Dean right there. No _way_ he was putting up with this anymore. He had definitely had enough of this little game Cal was playing.

He stood up slowly, deliberately not bothering to take the shot he was lining up, the one that would have won him the game. Reaching into his back pocket he pulled out a couple of bills and tossed them carelessly onto the green felt in front of him.

"What the…? What's up man? You were about to clean the table. _I _should be the one paying up right now." But Dean had already forgotten the guy and was moving toward Cal, leather jacket in hand.

He was behind her before she even had the chance to straighten up and when she finally did his hand wrapped itself firmly around her arm. Cal knew it was him. When she turned to face him there was no surprise: Just the flash of an evil little smile and the arch of a mischievous brow- _Took you long enough_.

She didn't have to say the words; Dean read them in the clear blue of her eyes. Yeah, well…he had a thing or two to say about that but he wasn't saying them here. He sent an ugly look and a scowl around the tables at the men gathered around there that seemed to _dare_ them to make a move, to say something when he turned her around again and started moving them both towards the door.

It wasn't until they'd made it to the door that one of them got bold enough to try something. One minute Dean was pushing the door open for Cal and getting ready to follow her through, the next he was stopped in his tracks by a big meaty hand on his shoulder and a deep rumbling voice coming from somewhere above him.

"This guy troubling you miss?" Unbe-_freaking-_leivable! Why? Why did it _always _have to be the biggest damned beefcake in the place? Every…single…time.

Cal of course, didn't answer the guy, just looked at Dean with a shrug – _what can I say? That's just the way it goes. _– And a sweet smile. There was a deep sigh as Dean hung his head briefly, because apparently Cal was about to get her way tonight after all.

As usual the Beefcake mistook Cal's shrug as being a something along the lines of: _I don't know…maybe...I'm just too sweet do anything about it myself._ She'd played the innocent card to perfection. Dean felt the displacement of air as the guy swung his arm back, didn't even need to look up. Just swerved aside when the fist came at him so that it hit wall instead of the face it had been aiming for.

His hands hanging loosely at his sides, fingers curled into tight fists and Dean was plenty ready to hit the guy back when he finally looked up again. Lucky for Beefcake another large man had stepped between them. "It's okay man… he's my brother…and Cal's with him." Thank God for Sammy.

Of course, Sam's word wasn't enough for the guy. He had to look over at Cal for her nod. "Can't begrudge a girl for needing a little attention now and then…" Yeah, that sass of hers was _not _helping the situation.

Beefcake looked like he wanted to smash something. Apparently he was the macho type that didn't take well to being played around with. Wonderful. Not that Dean blamed the guy at all… it was just a damned inconvenient time to have to deal with his reaction.

Looked like the bar fight might happen after all, even with Sam stepping in…until Fran came up behind the Beefcake and put a hand on his forearm to distract him. "You'll have to forgive our hellcat over there. Never happier than when she's causing havoc that one. Come on back to the bar... Sam'n I will buy you a beer."

Dean always knew he liked that chic. He didn't wait to watch them walk back to the bar, just roughly 'guided' Cal out the door as she weakly protested, "Dude, I wasn't ready to leave yet."

"Oh yeah? Well I say you were."

"I'm going back in there Dean."

"The hell you are."

And just like that she was up and over his shoulder watching the backs of his legs work as he carried her across the parking lot. Yeah, the whole caveman deal had _definitely _grown on her.

When he did put her down it was to pin her between himself and the Impala. She had no where to go and that was fine by her. Cal let him know as much by putting a hand on either of his hips when he leaned in, one arm on either side of her head with palms resting on the black metal of his car, to rest his forehead on hers.

"You'll be the death of me, woman." It was a low growl that did wonderful things to her insides.

"Oh, don't give me that line Winchester. You knew what you signed up for when you came looking for me." Part of the fun was the fight.

"Yeah…doesn't mean it doesn't piss me off sometimes." For both of them.

"…was just having a little fun…"

"…driving me insane…" He groaned.

"Yeah." She grinned, not even bothering to try apologetic.

"Worked, you know?"

"That's the best part."

"No, best part is that you always leave with _me_." And suddenly he'd switched from angry to predatory, stealing a kiss and leaving her breathless.

"Only one thing to say about this…better've been wearing that damned ribbon for me this time and not some psycho-stalker vampire…"

"Only one guy in that place I wanted attention from…"

"…better've been me…"

"...Beefcake at the bar…" she was teasing him now. He didn't hate it.

"Get in the damn car Cal. We're going home. Gonna show you exactly what I think about that little stunt you pulled back there."

"Franny and Sam…?"

"Have the keys to the Mustang…getting married in a couple of weeks…can find their own way home."

Yeah, she really did like the whole caveman thing.

"Alright then Winchester, what're you waiting for? Your girl's ready to head home."_**

* * *

**_

_**Chapter One – **A few weeks later_

"Remind me again why I agreed to do this?"

Franny asked as they pulled her old pickup truck into the farmhouse drive.

"Because Cal is your friend and she wants to do something nice, and _normal _with you for a change…"

"Sam, Since when is going to the bar with Cal ever normal? That girl hasn't had a fun night out unless the bar is trashed and somebody has her fist print on them when she leaves. I mean, seriously. My wedding is tomorrow and I'd rather not end up limping or with a black eye before then."

Sam of course could only laugh. Mostly because it really was true. Cal was never happier than when she was scrapping with somebody which always made a night out at the bar interesting.

"Don't worry sweetheart, Dean said he'd make her promise to behave…"

"Ha, right… and how exactly does he expect to accomplish that? He can be as bad as she is sometimes."

"I'm not sure, but he mentioned holding her chocolate stash hostage."

"Brave man, your brother. I mean that."

"Go and have fun, okay Franny? It's been a long time since you've gone out and had a little fun. Everything's been the bar, the hunt and the wedding lately… want you to relax and let loose a little before we get married tomorrow."

"Alright, I know. You're right. I do need this. I just have a bad feeling about tonight, you know? Probably just wedding jitters right?"

There was a loud knock on the passenger side window and, speak of the devil, Cal pulled open the door and popped her head in.

"You two done making kissy faces in here? Plenty of time for that tomorrow…I've got a full night planned for this girl and the sooner we get it started the better…"

Sam leaned in and kissed the soft spot next to Franny's ear. "Go on, enjoy it…and by this time tomorrow you'll be all mine." It was a whisper in her ear, one that Cal couldn't hear and it made her shiver pleasantly.

Somehow she managed to kiss him long and hard, even with Cal trying to pull her out of the car. Before she knew what was happening Fran was on her way to the Mustang laughing like she was sixteen again, racing Cal there for the chance to drive. Sam was right, everything would be okay.

* * *

Sam stood by the truck to watch them drive away. It was strange, this new life of theirs. Hard to believe that it was only nine months ago that Cal had waltzed in and shaken things up... six months ago that Franny had called him up looking for her. Now they were getting _married_…might even have _kids_ one day. The thought made him smile. Heh, heh.

A gaggle of Winchester kids, hunters in training if Dean had anything to say about it… he could already picture it. The locals (their neighbors now he reminded himself) watching a bunch of rowdy, scruffy looking kids running through fields and down the sidewalks in town: _Oh great_, they'd say, _here come those Winchester kids… hey, have you guys noticed how the rock salt always seems to disappear when they're around? Unhealthy interest in anything that burns too…and don't even get started on the sharp objects… What's with that family and all the road trips they take anyway?_ He was laughing to himself all the way into the kitchen.

As usual there was nothing short of an arsenal spread out over the kitchen table. Apparently it was weapons maintenance night at the Winchester/O'Sullivan residence again. Okay, yeah. So there were things he missed about being on the road, just the two of them and the Impala going from one small town to another. The smell of gun powder, rock salt and oil at all hours of the day and night was one of them. The sight of Dean just as he was now: buried under weaponry and completely oblivious to anything other than what he was doing, another.

It was ten steps to the fridge from the door. Sam took them silently and reached in to grab a couple of beers. Dean didn't look up until the bottle was set in front of him on the table.

"Thanks man." Sam just smiled and nodded. "They leave already?"

"Yeah, a few minutes ago."

"Good." Dean set down the revolver he'd been cleaning and got up, beer bottle in hand.

"Dean? Where're you going?" He was heading out the door and motioning for Sam to follow him.

"I've got something to give you. Been wanting to for weeks now but I couldn't do it with Cal around…"

What? He was keeping secrets from Cal? Well that was just asking for trouble. Had to be something pretty big.

It was mid-May and still a little cold in the evenings but the pace Dean was setting as they crossed the field behind the house kept them warm enough even without coats. A proud smile had started to spread across Dean's face as they got nearer to the small barn that stood just beyond the field on. It had been Cal's father's 'tool shed' where he'd kept all his hunting paraphernalia and now Cal and Dean were using it for the same purpose.

"Uh, Dean? Please tell me you haven't found us another hunt because I'm getting married tomorrow you know? Fran's okay with it all but I really don't think she'll want to have anything to do with 'salt and burn' or exorcisms on our wedding day."

"What? No, no, no Sam. It's nothing like that."

"Really? Okay… well, what then?"

"You'll see." Words tossed carelessly over his shoulder as he unlocked the barn door. There really wasn't anything more for Sam to do but follow him in and wait for whatever it was to be revealed.

* * *

Dean didn't bother flipping the switch for the lights. He knew every last inch of the barn by heart and had no trouble finding his way through it in the pitch black that swallowed them up when the door closed. So it was nothing really to find his way across the room through the darkness to the stairs that led up to the loft where all the books were kept. Where the gift he'd held on to for Sam all these years waited. Wasn't until they'd made it up the stairs that he bothered with flipping on a light switch.

The loft was Sam's favorite part of the barn. It had served Cal's father as a sort of office/reference type room before he'd died. The man had put a hell of a lot of work into it too. The whole barn had been weatherproofed and heated for the long, cold Ontarian winters and the walls of the loft were lined from floor to ceiling with shelves upon shelves of books and O'Sulivan family hunting journals spanning five generations. He and Dean had already spent many a night sitting at the huge wooden desk in the middle of the room. Pouring over countless pages of myth and folklore preparing what they needed for the hunts these last six months.

But that's not what they were here for this time.

Dean made a beeline for the desk, sat down and pulled out a small metal lockbox from one of the drawers. He looked over at Sam seeming to consider him seriously for a minute, a dramatic pause to stretch this thing he was doing out a little. Mostly because he figured – hey, this was the only chick flick moment he ever really _wanted_ to have any part of - so he was totally going to stretch it out and do it right. Right?

It was working too. He could tell by the way Sam started squirming in the chair he sat down in, shooting him this curious 'what-the-hell?' type look. Yeah, the guy never had been able to handle suspense. This was going to be _great_.

"So I, uh, called Missouri a couple of months ago…right around the time you and Fran decided to get hitched…and I asked her to, um, send me something…something I'd stashed away in a deposit box back in Lawrence right after you left for Stanford." He was explaining, sort of…in a cryptic kind of way…as he fished a small key out of his shirt pocket.

"Anyway, I figured with the wedding tomorrow and everything…well it just kind of seemed right that I give it to you now." The lock clicked as Dean turned the key and Sam's eyes went wide when the gunmetal grey lid squeaked open.

"Are those…? God Dean… are those Mom's rings?"

"Yeah Sammy. They are. Dad gave 'em to me right after she died. He, uh, wanted me to hold on to them and keep them safe. Said that as long as I had them a little part of Mom would always be with us." He reached in and carefully lifted out the tiny single-diamond ring. "I, uh, know you guys decided that you didn't _want_ rings…and I'd kind of like to hold on to the wedding band myself just in case Cal and I ever get around to settling down…I just think that maybe Mom would have wanted you to have one of these when the time came and…" he put the tiny ring into Sam's palm and had to smile at how huge his brothers hand suddenly seemed. "Dude, I honestly can't see that ring anywhere other than on Fran's finger."

Sam was stunned. For once he was actually speechless. "Dean…I…." Okay, so maybe not _completely _speechless but definitely the closest he's ever been to it. If there had ever been _any_ doubt in Dean's mind – which, of course, there hadn't been – but if there _had_ been… well when Sam reached over and snaked an arm around his shoulder and pulled him into a rough _manly _half-hug and whispered _"Thanks man. It's…perfect" _before pulling away and staring at the ring in his hand again with tears in his eyes Dean just knew he'd done the right thing.

Of course, there was a limit to Dean's tolerance for the touchy-feely type stuff. So after about a minute of watching Sammy just stare at his hand in awe he locked up the second ring again and tucked the box back into its drawer.

"Alright dude, this is getting a little uncomfortable seeing as I just filled my chick-flick quota for like, the next _year _at least. What do you say we head back to the farmhouse and grab another couple of beers from the fridge, maybe watch some TV? There's always some kind of hockey game going on up here… oh, and the late night movie tonight is Godzilla versus Mothra man! I haven't seen that one in _ages_." Not since they were kids actually, they'd been eight and twelve that last time.

The great thing about Sam? He understands Dean and the front he needs to hold on to, even at times like these when there's only Sam to see it come down. Understands that he needs to keep that emotion hidden out of sight because it's the only real weakness he has. Dean just doesn't _do_ weak. Never has. So Sam nods his head once, tucks the little ring into his own shirt pocket and stands up.

"Hockey eh?" he says the way the local boys at the bar usually do, tugging a laugh out of his big brother. "Sounds good man. Maybe we can order some pizza too…" and that was that.

* * *

It was a beautiful morning that just screamed 'early spring'. The sun was bright and cheerful in a cloudless clear blue sky and the grass had grown in lush and green. There was birdsong in the air and a light breeze ruffling her hair. Yeah, all in all it was a beautiful day for a wedding.

Fran was humming softly to herself, happy-hearted and lightfooted as she made her way out to Cal's Mustang. It had been a challenge but she'd somehow managed to convince Sam and Cal to let her drive herself to the church that morning. She wanted a quiet morning to get ready. Fran would put her own hair up, do her own make-up because she'd always been a no-frills kind of girl…and then she'd take the twenty minute drive to the church and use that quiet, peaceful time to center herself. Funny that Dean would be the one to understand the need for this time. She didn't give the guy enough credit really. He'd stood up for her, making Sam see her side of it. Strong-arming Cal into letting Fran have her way.

Turning the key in the ignition she felt the car come to life around her, listened to the purr of the engine as it idled. Wouldn't be long now, twenty minutes and she'd be at the church… less than an hour and she'd officially be a Winchester. Happy, peaceful thoughts running through her mind she pushed the pedal down and sped across the countryside.

There was no possible way she could have seen it coming. The shadow crept up on the back of the Mustang like a cloud across the sun, out of her line of sight. It crept into the car through the open passenger side window and then all Fran could do was blink. The silent scream frozen in her mind, where she now found herself trapped. When her eyes opened again they weren't blue anymore, they were pitch black. The Mustang slowed, the person behind the wheel looked up into the rearview mirror. Black eyes blown wide and an evil smile…a blink…and then chocolate brown eyes were back. The Mustang sped up again as if nothing had happened. Headed toward the church…to Sam.

* * *

He'd been dreaming about the wedding ever since he'd proposed. Dreams that were more like visions really…and for once the things he had been seeing were _good. _Now that the day had come it all seemed so surreal.

It was small ceremony with little more than a handful of people. It's how Franny had wanted it, with a huge party back at the bar later that night for anyone who wanted to come celebrate with them.

Sam was standing at the front of the church facing back towards the open doors where Fran would make her appearance. Pastor Jim had come up with their father the night before and was standing behind them on the pulpit. Dean was right where he'd always been, at his side where he belonged. Sam still couldn't believe they'd managed to convince him to put the tux on. Of course the biker boots had made an appearance but that was just classic Dean right there. Sam wouldn't have wanted it any other way.

Cal sat next to Fran's parent's, smiling brightly up at 'her boys' as she'd been calling them since New York. She was all smiles and absolutely stunning in a bright blue slip of a dress. Sam could still see their Father's face when Dean had introduced her earlier that morning. His eyes had gone as wide as his smile when he took her hand in his.

"Caitlin… my God I haven't seen you since you were a little wisp of a thing. Six years old and hanging on to your father's leg like a lifeline."

This of course had Dean laughing so hard he doubled over, practically falling over himself. He'd seen pictures of her at pretty much all ages, they were scattered around the old farmhouse. After watching her wield machetes and decapitating vampires though it was really hard to reconcile the woman with the child and he didn't hesitate to say so either. This, of course, earned him a good hard elbow to the side…which made _John _laugh. Old Jacob would be proud, he'd told her. They hadn't met a girl yet who'd been able to keep Dean in line.

Missouri's tears flowing freely down her cheeks and John's held firmly back by sheer force of will. They may not have fallen, but they were there all the same shining brightly in his eyes and that was enough for Sam.

Fran's sister Carole was coming up the aisle towards them to take her place as the Maid of Honor…and then there was Fran in a simple white dress with a pretty sheer veil carrying a small bouquet of daisies. Simple and beautiful. Even Dean was affected by the sight, patting Sam lightly on the shoulder as she came towards them. Sam's heart swelled proudly making him feel like it was about to burst right out of his chest. This woman, this amazing woman wanted him… broken family, demon issues, hunting and all. Right at that moment he was about the luckiest man alive.

She was standing before him now, and he couldn't help the wide toothy grin he wore. He heard Jim's soft voice tell everyone to take their seats. The veil was so perfectly white, so very soft under his rough, callused fingertips. Every thing slowed around him as he gently lifted the material up, revealing her face little by little.

Lush lips, round dimpled cheeks… and those eyes. Those were what he wanted to see. Those warm, chocolate brown eyes… that were… not so chocolate brown. Heart stopping altogether he pulled his hands back quickly as eyes darker than midnight stared him down. Staggering back a step he ran right into Dean "Oh my _God_." Hushed whisper of shock from Sam. Dean didn't know what the hell was going on because all he could see was the wall of his brother's back but it couldn't be good. Not from the sound of Sam's voice.

Then there was Cal's voice, echoing Sam's with a harsher "Good God no!" followed by a collective seeming to come from all over the church at once.

Fran was running down the aisle now, racing away with her veil billowing behind her…Sam chasing but not quite able to catch up. The woman could _run_ was all Dean could think as he watched it happen. Then she was through the church doors. Dean's instincts kicked and he was running towards his brother.

When Sam finally reached the doors he saw Fran in the middle of the dirt lot outside. Turning to look at him she reached out, fear in her eyes before they turned black again. The sound of a large explosion filled the air, accompanied by a flash of light so powerfully bright Sam had to lift his arm and shield his eyes. All in all it lasted less than a minute…and when the dust finally cleared Fran was gone.

Three Winchester men standing on the church steps in shock trying desperately to figure out just what the hell had just happened. Three sets of hazel eyes falling on the dirty white heap of cloth where Fran had last been standing. Only one man moved.

Sam's heavy footfall filled the unearthly sulfur filled silence. One large had fisted itself in the material at his feet and lifted it from the dirt. White silk, browned around the edges as if it had been burned. Charred and smelling of smoke and dust from the lot where it had been laying. A wedding dress. Her wedding dress.

Long lanky legs wobbled, knees buckled and Sam was bowed over himself, holding the dress tightly to his chest and struggling to breathe. There was only a vague awareness of a deep gravely voice (his father) asking what the hell had just happened. Then there were two sets of hands. Dean's strong, confident ones, hands he recognized by touch alone…and smaller ones that were just as strong, just as confident even as they shook. Cal's hands. They were guiding him to the Impala and he really didn't care. He was in shock. Couldn't reconcile in his head how something so right could have gone so completely and utterly _wrong._

And somewhere, beneath all the shock and all the confusion there was a nagging little voice asking the scariest question of all: could she still be alive? Or had she died just now right in front of his eyes?

* * *

**_Please review, thx: )_**


	2. Chapter 2

_Seeing as I left off in chapter one with such an evil little cliff hanger I figured it might be a good idea to add Chapter Two as well since I've already got it written : ) Enjoy guys... More to come soon.__**

* * *

**_

_**Chapter Two**_

_BANG_

Goddamn Demons

_BANG_

Goddamn Weddings

_BANG_

Goddamn Freaking Demons at freaking weddings who can't just leave the goddamned Winchester family alone (great, now she was starting to sound like some vulgar version of a Dr. Seuss character)

_BANGBANGBANGBANGBANGBANGClickclickclickclick_

"God _frickin' DAMN IT!!_" A frustrated scream aimed at everything and nothing all at once.

Cal had gone straight out back to her makeshift shooting range and had stayed there ever since getting back to the farmhouse. She'd been taking out her anger on the targets by way of round after round of ammo. Problem was she'd just run out of ammo… and Franny was still gone.

Franny was GONE and Cal was so far beyond pissed off that there just wasn't a word to describe what she was feeling anymore. It was bright red, white hot and it burned its way from the inside out so that suddenly all she wanted to do was _scream_.

Needing some sort of release she cursed the gun in her hands for being out of ammunition and then threw it as hard as she could across the shooting range so that when it finally landed it took out three of the targets with a deafening crash.

Cal should have known that there wouldn't be any release from this. Should have known that trashing the firing range like that wouldn't help to squelch that burning rage inside her. In the end the question still remained: what the hell had happened to Franny? As of yet there was no answer. Hell, they didn't even know if she was still _alive_. For the first time since her mother died when she was a little girl, Cal felt completely and utterly _useless. _That particular feeling did _not_ sit well.

"Caitlin?"

John Winchester's deep, strong voice echoed questioningly through the space around her.

"John." She acknowledged without turning to look at him. Not wanting him to see the rage in her eyes. There was a deep sigh and the heavy, confident footfall that was purely Winchester.

"Thought I might find you out here. You're your father's daughter, I'll give you that."

Another time, another place she would have smiled, would have been proud. Today all she could manage was the halfhearted shrug of a shoulder. She still couldn't face him.

"We, uh, got Sam settled in. Dean's sitting with him right now… trying to get him to talk, to find out what the hell it was he saw exactly. I'll tell you, I don't think he'll get anywhere though. He's almost in as bad a shape as Sam is, and damned if I can figure out why."

There was worry in that whiskey warm voice. Until that moment she hadn't thought the man capable of worry. He and her father had always been her role models, their self-confidence flawless and strong.

"Dean's the one who convinced Sam to let Fran drive herself to the church."

John nodded. Well that explained a lot. He blamed himself. Not that there was any surprise there really, Dean had always blamed himself where his brother's pain was concerned. That was just the way it had always been. So John would do what he'd always done: leave them to help each other get through this…and hunt down some answers. Find them something tangible to destroy for having done this.

"I'm gonna head up to your Dad's loft then. See what I can find, get us some answers." John always had been a man of few words. Cal found that for once she appreciated it.

Alone with herself and nothing but her thoughts for company again Cal started to get restless. This just seemed to be one more thing on that list of things that were all her fault. If she hadn't picked up Earl at that bar a lifetime ago...her father would still be alive, she would never have met Sam and Dean and Fran would never have disappeared. She couldn't take it anymore. The silence was deafening, the space becoming claustrophobic despite its wide openness. Before she knew it she was putting one foot in front of the other…headed where, well she wouldn't know until she got there.

* * *

He was sitting alone on the bed that they'd been sharing for months now. Head bowed, arms resting on his legs and dried tear tracks staining stubbled cheeks. If anyone had asked before today Cal would have said that Dean Winchester just doesn't _do_ tears. Well, she knew differently now.

Silently she moved, going to him the way she knew he needed her to. His Sammy had shattered, was practically catatonic in the next room and Dean was in pain because…damn it… he should have seen this coming. Should have protected not only Sam, but Franny too. That was his _job_. It was what he _did._ The very definition of who he was: protector of Sam… and he'd failed.

Cal had expected him to get angry, to yell, to break stuff. Hell, worst case she'd expected him to quietly smolder in his own rage and leap right into action searching for a clue as to what the hell happened and then hunt that little bitch of a demon down. This quiet, tearful desperation? Yeah, it was so much worse than 'worst case'.

She was standing between his legs, his arms wrapped around her middle and his head resting against her stomach. Her fingers were in his hair, gently tracing the outline of his scalp as she listened to whispered, broken words of _my fault _and _didn't deserve this_ and _God, what if she's dead_.

"Shh. Dean, s'not your fault." And she meant it.

"Yeah Cal, yeah _it is_. I should have known the damn demon would try something…especially after… after…" God, after Jess. But that was left unsaid. Didn't need to be voiced. Cal knew. "You and Sam were right. She shouldn't have been left alone…left her wide open for it, vulnerable…" and now she was gone. God only knew what had happened…Sam had completely shut down. Could only lie there gripping that damned dress and stare blindly into space, probably reliving it over and over again in his head.

"Damn it Cal, how could I have been so stupid?"

She didn't answer. Couldn't, because there were no words to fix this. No way to show him that it wasn't his fault, not really. So she stood there, running fingers that were strong and sure through his soft, short hair offering him what little comfort it brought him. Waiting for that moment when despair turned into anger. Because when the anger came so did the determination and that led to action. Once he hit that stage there would be no stopping him.

* * *

He was still in his suit and tie…it itched all over but he just didn't care. Just wanted to sit there and wallow. Hell, he hadn't even bothered to take his boots off yet. Cal…well she was still in that dress, the one that made him wonder if someday he might buckle down and ask her the important type questions that usually came with what they had together. Even that had very little effect on him. She smelled of flowers and gunpowder, which was no surprise because the first place Cal usually went when she was upset was the shooting range. Though she didn't usually actually do any shooting, preferring to throw knives at the targets instead. She had to be pretty damned pissed off to have hit the guns and ammo. Of course she was. She ought to be mad at _him._

For the first time in a long time there was no all consuming lust when he looked at her. When Cal stepped into him all he wanted to do was to pillow his head on her stomach, wrap his arms around her, close his eyes and _thank God_ with every last ounce of his being that she was right here with him and just fine. There was guilt and shame that came with the thought but he was used to that. Was okay with it, really, but only because she was here with him.

So they just stayed that way and he _tried_, really he did, to make his mind and heart believe what she was saying about it not being his fault. Didn't matter worth a damn how hard he tried though, he knew better. Dean Winchester's life revolved around protecting others…especially Sammy. Sammy above all else. He'd failed…miserably.

How long he just sat there, her fingers running through his hair, well he just didn't know. Took awhile for him to notice any change…to figure out that there was a phone ringing somewhere nearby in the house. Sam's cell phone from the sound of it. What time was it? Didn't seem late enough for it to be someone from the bar. Could be Fran's family…except they didn't have Sam's number. Didn't need it, he was always with Fran. They'd be more likely to come to the farmhouse anyway…looking for answers.

Dean couldn't be sure but it still seemed too early for it to be anyone from the bar wanting to know what was going on. Their reception party had been set up to start at seven… "Who the hell could that be?" His question echoing in the sound of Cal's voice.

Two rings, then three and then it just stopped. Had Sam picked up? Did they just hang up? There was no muffled voice, only silence…

* * *

Sam was up and on his feet even before his eyes opened. There was that sound… the phone. It was annoying as all hell but he was going to have to answer it. There would be some explaining to do…Fran's parents were going to want to know what the hell happened to their daughter. He just wished he knew what the hell he was going to tell them.

It was dark. Still morning probably, but Dean had drawn the curtains because he'd asked him to. Still a few hours until the... yeah well, the reception didn't really matter anymore did it?

Dean was down the hall in Cal's room. Just knowing he was there was comforting. Like when he was five and Dean was nine and Dad had just started going away on hunts without them. The first time he'd felt so alone, so small and scared… but Dean was there and he'd always just sort of known what to do to make it better. Sam felt like he was back there again… five years old and scared…really scared.

There was a moment's hesitation. The thought that maybe he should just take that walk down the hall and rejoin the land of the living if only for a few minutes. Just long enough to set eyes on Dean and feel just a little safer… but then there was the phone and he had to answer it. So instead he picked his cell phone up off of the dresser and pressed the send button. He didn't even bother saying anything, just waited for whoever it was on the other end of the line.

"Sam?" Oh _God_, now he was going _insane_. There was no other explanation. No other way her voice could be in his ear right now.

"_Sam?!?_ Oh god, Sam please say something… I…I don't know where I am. I think I blacked out because one minute I was driving to the church counting the minutes until … and then I woke up here….wherever _here _is. It's dark…and I'm scared. Sam? Are you there?"

Franny…? But…

"H-how…how do I know this is really you?" She was possessed when she ran out of the church. There had been no mistake. The eyes alone had been a dead giveaway…even if there hadn't been that overpowering stench of sulphur.

"What…?" She sounded genuinely confused.

"You were possessed…earlier. You were at the church…and you had these…your eyes were black. How do I know I'm not talking to whatever possessed you?"

He never got an answer. The line just went dead, and just like that she was gone again.

Whether it was the sudden silence that wrapped itself around him or that dull cracking sound he could have sworn he heard when his heart finally started beating again, Sam didn't know or care. All he knew was that he needed to move, _now_. Needed to _do_ something. Needed to find where the freaking _hell _that thing had taken _his Fran._

God, he needed Dean…needed Cal…needed to find Fran…except that he was having a hard time putting one foot in front of the other as he stumbled down the hall because of the horrible pounding in his head. The adrenaline that had begun to pump through him giving him a massive headache. The kind that only ever usually came with visions, so that he was positive any second now the world would go white and fuzzy around the edges and he'd be forced to watch someone (maybe even Franny) die. "_DEAN!_" and he knew…just _knew _it came out a panicked scream but right now he just didn't _care_.

And _thank God _Dean has the reflexes of a career military man because suddenly there he was: in his face, helping him down to his knees when Sam clutched at his head… "Whoa…Sammy…what the hell? You having a vision? Are you okay dude? What is it? What's going on?"

"Dean…Fran…we need… God, she just called. Called me on my cell. Don't know if it was really her or… but Dean, she's _alive… _doesn't know where she is… Said it's really dark…and she's scared… Dude, we've got to _find _her. _Fast_."

"What? She _what?"_ Dean's hands were ghosting over Sam's face, the back of his head, his neck and shoulders…making sure everything was where it was supposed to be out of habit. Took about thirty seconds for his brain to catch up to what Sam was saying. When it finally did though, well it was like something just clicked on inside of him. "Well hell Sammy, that's good news isn't it?"

Sam just looked at him like he was crazy. "Dude, my girl…the one I was supposed to _marry _this morning… is possessed by God knows _what_ kind of demon and from the sounds of it is in _serious trouble. _How the hell do you figure this to be good news?"

"She's _alive_ Sammy. That's how. Dead we can't do much about…this? This we can work with."

Yeah, they could definitely work with this Cal thought when she heard Dean say so. John was here… all they had to do was _find _Fran and then? Oh, they were going to have one _hell _of a party. Winchester/Exorcist style.

Cal smiled from her bedroom doorway. There it was, that angry determination she'd been waiting for. Good. Time to go find John then… there was work to do.

Three pissed off Winchesters and an angry O'Sulivan, that demon didn't stand a chance.

* * *

**_Please review, thx: )_**


	3. Chapter 3

_Alright then...I'm going to cover my bases on this one because this chapter is a whole lot different ( at least the begining is anyway ) then what I usually write. The usual disclaimers apply. You know the Winchesters? Their car? Their show? Yeah, I've totally got nothing to do with them...you know...except in my colorful and very active imagination. This fic? Right, uh, just taking them for a little ride is all : D_

_For those of you who have read my other two W vs O fics... yeah this one is a little Darkside as I've mentioned before... and is about to get a little weird. There's a new abusive relationship that pops up at the begining of this chapter that might be disturbing to some (I'm truly sorry if it offends anyone) amongst two brand new characters that just kind of popped into the story yesterday. Don't worry guys, the dude gets his in the end... Winchester style... I promise : ) It'll just take awhile to get to that point so bear with me okay?_

_So yeah... looking foward to more of your wonderful reviews. Please guys, let me know what you think and don't be shy about saying what you don't like about it too. I don't know if it doesn't work if nobody tells me ; ) Enjoy the read...**

* * *

**_

_**Chapter Three**_

There was a storm raging outside. Storms always made her nervous… something about the thunder just felt so _violent_. Kate Anderson was not a big fan of violent. There was too much of that in her life already.

Of course, she didn't have the luxury of being nervous over something silly like a storm right now. Not when Jake was home, watching the game in the other room and already working on his sixth beer. He was intimidating when he was sober…put a few beer in him though and he was downright _scary_.

"Kate! I don't smell those burgers cookin' yet. You better be makin' supper like I told ya to or you're gonna be in some serious trouble woman."

And there it was. The order and the threat. A threat Jake would gladly follow through on given even the slightest incentive. She couldn't remember a time without the threats. Before the orders. Couldn't remember a time before Jake. Couldn't even remember how long they'd been together really. Seemed like it had always been this way for her.

"Sorry Jake. I was just waiting for the pan to heat up. I won't take too much longer." How many times had she apologized already just today?

"Better not. M'hungry. You keep me waitin' much longer and I'ma gonna have to punish your ass."

Oh great. It was going to be one of _those_ days. The thought sent a shiver of dread straight through her. Last time Jake had 'punished' her he'd tied her to a chair, locked her in the closet and gone out to the bar. She didn't even want to think about what had happened when he'd finally come home and untied her. He'd been piss drunk and angry as hell. She couldn't remember anything else about it. Had probably blocked it out like so many other things he'd done to her.

Most days he was easy to please. As long as she kept the house clean, cooked his meals at the right times and kept quiet unless he asked her something he generally just left her alone. He smiled a lot on good days, not that there were many of them. Days like those gave her hope that things were getting better.

Then there were the bad days. There were a lot of those. Ones like today when she spent most of her time apologizing and bending over backwards trying to keep him happy. Days where Jake started hitting the sauce around lunchtime and wouldn't let up until he passed out from it. Sometimes he went through the stuff so fast that he'd run out before the sun even had time to set. It was always the same routine. He'd get mad at her because it was her fault for not keeping the fridge stocked for him. There'd be some kind of twisted consequence, creatively dreamed up by Jake himself. Then he'd run out to the bar to get so smashed he'd be half blind from it when he stumbled in again.

Days like these Kate wished she was stronger, so she could leave him and maybe have a chance at a normal life. It was a stupid wish though because even if she did leave he'd follow her. He'd find her and make her sorry. Make her wish she'd ever even _thought_ about running off. She knew because she'd tried it before and even though she couldn't remember it, the echo of her the pain, her fear and her helpless desperation had lingered and were enough to discourage her from trying it again. Once was all it took.

"_KATIE!_ Seriously woman, I'm gonna freaking starve to death if you don't get in here with that damned food soon. Quit messing around and bring me my dinner. NOW."

Thank God the burgers were done because she really didn't want to feed that anger. She brought his plate to him, filled with two big, juicy burgers and a mountain of French fries and realized as she set down the plate that she'd forgotten something.

"Kate." It was a low growl that made every last hair on her body stand on end. "you _forgot _something babe."

Stupid, stupid, stupid. How the hell could she have forgotten a fresh bottle? "Sorry…sorry, just give me a sec… I'll go get it right now… so sorry Jake. Wasn't thinking."

"Damn straight you weren't thinking. Hurry the hell up already." His eyes were dark and glittering and Kate knew, just _knew _that it didn't matter how quickly she ran or how well she took care of him today. He wanted to punish her and was looking for any reason at all to do it.

She ran to the fridge and yanked the door open, bottles and jars on the shelves clinking noisily as they jiggled from the force of it. It was useless though… there was nothing to reach in for. The beer was all gone…and Jake was right behind her now. He'd known…he had to have known…

"Well now, looks like you haven't learned your lesson yet eh babe? Still can't manage to keep the fridge stocked."

_ohgodohgodohgod _she was _hallucinating_ again. Jake's ice cold blue eyes had gone pitch black _again_! Oh _God_!

He had his hands wrapped around her wrists, fingers digging in so that there would be bruises there soon. She tried to fight him… knew she shouldn't, that it would only make Jake mad but she was scared and it was instinctual. Didn't matter much though because he was too strong for her.

"You're damned lucky I was planning to go out tonight Katie, or things would be a whole lot worse." She was screaming but all he did was laugh. One strong arm wrapped around her waist, his other huge hand wrapped around both her wrists as he pulled her along with him. Then there it was: the small, dark, _awful _closet. He tossed her into it like she was some sort of ragdoll. Her heart sank as she heard the loud clicking sound of all three locks sliding home.

Well at least he hadn't tied her up this time…

"Enjoy your little vacation Katie honey, because when I get home we're gonna have a nice long 'talk' about a woman's duties and how you fell short today."

She curled up into a ball in a corner as far back into the tiny closet as she could get. Listened to him laugh evilly. Heard the jingle of his car keys. Shivered as she heard him call out "Don't you wait up now. I'll wake you up when I get back." And finally breathed a sigh of relief at the sound of the front door opening and closing.

Yeah, she hated the closet. Hated how being locked in there made her feel like a cowering child. But respite was respite and she'd learned to take it where she could get it.

* * *

The storm forgotten Kate leaned her head on the wall at her back and closed her eyes. Better to get some sleep while she could.

Sam was hunched over the desk pouring over a stack of newspapers, maps and books so big he had to stand up to reach the top of it. Two weeks now. She'd been gone two weeks already and Sam wondered if he'd ever get used to the helpless, angry feeling that had taken over.

The hide-a-bed was open, an unmade mess of tangled sheets and pillows in the far corner of Cal's father's loft. It had been calling to him for hours now but he was stubbornly ignoring it. The less time he wasted sleeping the sooner he'd be able to find Fran… and _God_ he hoped he did soon.

They'd managed to track down six different possessions already. Each one of them women matching Fran's description. _None_ of them were her. After the third Dad had suggested they start splitting up to perform the exorcisms so they could cover more ground in less time. He and Jim were in Vermont right now, working another one. Another not-Fran.

A twisted part of him wanted to laugh because the bed was practically whispering his name in Dean's voice '_Come on Sammy, you know you want to'_. Not now though. Not yet. His eyes were blurring over so that he had to blink and squint to read the big, bold lettering of the Chicago Post's headlines. His thirtieth paper in the last three hours.

Hands scrubbing his scalp and over his now bearded face Sam debated whether he should head over to the farmhouse to grab some coffee. Then his cell phone went off and he jumped on it…praying it was her again even though he knew it wouldn't be. There hadn't been another call since that first one.

"Hello?"

"Sam? It's Bobby. I got another one for ya. You guys up for a trip to Niagara Falls?"

"You think it's her?" Same question he asked every single time.

"I can't be sure son. Wish I could tell you it was, sounds like it might be but without a picture there's just no way to know for sure." Same answer too.

"Okay then. We'll have to check it out. Could you e-mail me what you've got on it? I'll go over it on the way. Sooner we get on the road the better."

There was a new edge to him now, jagged and sharp. Sam knew it. Wasn't particularly pleased about it but there wasn't much to be done. He felt like a heap of shattered glass and there would be no gluing together of pieces until he knew what had happened to Fran.

"Sure thing." Bobby's rough voice in his ear was small comfort, but he'd learned over the last couple of weeks to take it where he could find it.

"Thanks man. We'll call and check in with you when we get there."

He was about to hang up when he heard Bobby's voice again.

"Look Sam…it'd be stupid of me to say something like 'don't worry' or 'she'll be fine' because God only knows… well we both know how these things usually end up. We _will _find her though, okay? None of us are going to stop until we find her and send the thing that took her right on back to hell."

Sam said nothing at all, couldn't have even if he'd wanted to. He just waited for the click that told him Bobby had hung up and didn't press the 'end' button until he heard the angry beeping that meant the connection was gone. Only then did he stand with a weary sigh. Time for that coffee then. He had to go find Dean so they could pack up and hit the road again.

* * *

Kate woke with a start. God…so dark, so cold. She was stiff and sore from being curled up and in on herself. She was disoriented too, couldn't figure out where she was and felt the cold fingers of panic creeping up on her. There was a faint bit of memory teasing the edges of her mind… something about a large man with dark hair but it was gone before she could grasp it and then reality hit her hard…_Right_, she was in the damned closet again. Was Jake home? Was that what woke her? She didn't know whether to hope he was still lucid enough to remember to let her out or to pray he was too drunk to make it past passing out on the couch. She was hungry, hadn't eaten since breakfast and she needed to go to the bathroom…

But no… no. It wasn't Jake after all. It was that thunder. The storm was still raging outside. Louder now too, the flashes of lightning so bright that she could see it clearly through the crack between the door and the floor. Creepy. Great…well, no way she was going fall asleep again now.

Sleep was her last sanctuary and dreams were her salvation. There she saw this man. This huge man with a mop of shaggy hair and the softest, gentlest eyes she'd ever seen. He had no name, but she knew that he was hers if only in her dreams. Kate had never seen the man anywhere other than in her dreams but something kept her hoping she would. It was silly but deep down she wanted to believe that if she ever did meet him…he'd save her. From this life she was stuck in… and from Jake.

Maybe she'd get lucky and the storm would stop before Jake got back so she could squeeze in another few minutes. Something about those eyes just made it easier for her to deal with this hell that had become her life.

* * *

"Dammit Cal, no! You're not coming with us on this one."

"Since when have you ever been able to tell me what to do, huh Winchester? In case you haven't been paying attention these last two weeks Fran is _missing_ and I'll be damned if I'll just sit around while you go running off to perform another exorcism just because you tell me to!"

"I am _not _taking you with us. God sweetheart, you're shoulder is still swollen from being popped out of joint and your cheek is still purple from the bookshelf that fell on you during that last one a couple of days ago."

"And if I hadn't been there the damned thing would have hit your unconscious ass instead. Sam and I would be going to a funeral right now instead of getting ready to head out to Niagara Falls."

"I wasn't unconscious Cal."

"Oh, so I guess you just closed your eyes to rest them a second when the demon sent you head first into the wall then huh? You've still got a goose egg the size of a golfball Dean."

"Cal…" Dean's voice had suddenly gone soft and pleading as he wearily eyed the dark spot on her face.

"What?" She spat the word out, still angry that he would even _try_ to tell her what to do.

Rough, blunt fingertips gently traced the curve of her undamaged cheek. Anger clearly wasn't working. He was changing tactics, the bum. "I just…" he sighed and deflated. "I just hate seeing you like this, you know? All bruised up and hurting even if you're too damn stubborn to admit it. Wish you'd take two or three days to just heal before you go rushing in head first again."

Damn. She hated it when he went all soft and sweet on her like that. It was impossible for her to fight against it. "I could say the same about you, stubborn ass of a man that you are." Grumble falling from pouty lips.

Unable to resist and knowing she was starting to wear down he kissed her lightly, the question in those hazel eyes even if they weren't on his lips. One word: please?

Yeah, and he thought Sam's kicked puppy look was frustrating? Urg! That _MAN_!

"A day. I'll give it a day… but you've got to promise me you'll call and wait for me to get there if this one turns out to be her or it's no deal."

"Two days. Forty-eight hours of actual rest… and I promise we'll find the girl before we even book a room. I'll even send you a picture with Sam's fancy hi-tech deal of a phone so you can see for yourself."

Damn the hustler in him. She should have known he wouldn't just let it go once she agreed. No, he had to get what he wanted…still, now that he'd got her thinking about it she had to admit that her shoulder was throbbing pretty badly. It was so swollen she couldn't throw her knives properly to save her life even if she wanted to…and yeah, she'd tried. So maybe two days wasn't such a bad idea. Somebody had to look in on the bar anyway…Fran wouldn't want it going to hell just because she was missing.

"Okay. Two days, the picture and you wait for me to come join you if it's her. I want a piece of that demon before we send it back where it belongs. My final offer."

Dean wasn't the only one with a stubborn streak. Of course, he wasn't an idiot either.

"Sweetheart, you've got yourself a deal."

* * *

Cal slept fifteen hours straight. It took her three hours to relax enough to be able to drift off after the last of the rumbling roar of the Impala's engine had faded away. The emptiness of the house felt unnatural and that alone was enough to keep her on edge. It took a full bag of M&M's (from Dean's stash of course, seeing as he'd been the one to leave her alone at home), A t-shirt three sizes too big for her (which reeked of Dean's aftershave and made her smile happily) and a mullet rock mix tape (also Dean's, his favorite one actually, which she'd swiped from the Impala before he and Sam had left for Niagara Falls). When she finally did fall asleep she was down and out for the long haul.

She woke to the feel of warm sunshine and the sound birds chirping merrily outside her window. Her shoulder was a little stiff but the swelling had gone during the night and the stinging pins and needles sensation that had been in her cheek was gone. A long hot shower, a little breakfast and she'd be good as new. Okay, so maybe Dean had been right after all. The break was doing her some good. Not that she was about to admit it to her caveman or anything… he might get it into his head that he could get away with ordering her around and that just wouldn't do.

The text message that had come in that afternoon with the picture of a strange girl with pitch black eyes had been short and to the point.

_Another dead end – should be an easy one this time, it's not as powerful as the last one – we'll be home tomorrow_

The wording had been carefully chosen to mask the disappointment, but Cal knew her boys too well to be fooled. That made seven now. Seven different girls who all matched Fran's general description. It was almost as if the forces of evil were purposefully targeting specific girls…if Cal didn't know any better she'd have thought they were being jerked around. Intentionally thrown off the trail so it would be harder to find Franny.

Right after Dean's text message came in Bobby called the house line.

"God man, _another one_? What the hell?"

"Yeah, I know. This one's close to you too. Someplace called Orleans. Don't know how accurate this map is considering I've never been in your neck of the woods before but from the looks of it it's just on the outskirts of Ottawa."

"I know where it is."

"John and Jim are back right? You'll take them with you?"

"Not, they're not back yet."

"Sam and Dean are in Niagara Falls aren't they?"

"And they won't be back until tomorrow." She confirmed.

"Cal…you're gonna have to wait for someone to get back. I don't need to tell you exorcisms are dangerous stuff. Going into one alone is practically suicide."

"Oh come on. You know me better than that. Jacob O'Sulivan didn't raise his daughter to be a fool." She teased him, knowing full well that she wasn't fooling him one bit. They were _both _well aware of the fact that she was very much her father's daughter. There was no doubt whatsoever she would be going it alone on this one.

"Old Jacob raised his daughter in a spitting image of himself." Bobby groused.

"Bobby? Don't tell Dean, Sam or John about this okay? Every time these girls turn out not to be Fran… I just don't want them to get their hopes up and be disappointed again."

Definitely her father's daughter was what Bobby was thinking.

"Caitlin… be careful."

Cal wasn't listening anymore though. Having said all there was to say she was already ending the call and tossing some holy water next to the bible in her duffel bag and looking forward to a long drive. It had been far too long since she'd hit the open road in her little red Mustang..

* * *

The girl turned out to be a sixteen year old cheerleader. Dolly was most definitely _not_ Fran. Cal's dislike of Barbie dolls and the color pink were nothing compared to Fran's aversion to cheerleading. Dolly Maddigan might have the right hair color, eye color and dimensions but the similarities ended there….even in the midst of being possessed by an evil being.

So, she'd only participated in a handful of exorcisms so far but this? Well it was a weird one, that was for damn sure. Even by a hunter's standards. The thing had recognized her for what she was for one, right from the start. Knew Cal was a hunter before it even set eyes on her. Okay, not all that unusual. Dean had mentioned a while back that demons could read minds and use what they found there against you. That was cool, fine by her since she had nothing to hide.

But…the eyes were all wrong too. They weren't black like the others had been. They had stayed brown but had a shiny, glossy sheen to them that was…well completely unnatural. Cal had never seen anything quite like it before.

Things got even stranger when Cal started in on the latin exorcism ritual.

"You'll _pay_ for this Caitlin O'Sulivan…mark my words! You'll wish you'd never set eyes on this girl. You'll wish you'd never even _heard_ of Latin!"

Okay, so again: maybe not that strange really. Threats were pretty par for the course.

"Yeah, yeah. Whatever. Demon threats don't scare me. Now get out of that body and get on back to hell where scum like you belongs!!"

"Ignorant girl! I'm _not _a demon. You call yourself a hunter? An O'Sulivan at that? Talk about your piss poor research. I'm trying to _help _this poor girl. I'm giving her the chance of a _lifetime_ to turn her life around. It's a gift really."

Then again most demons didn't waste their breath trying to convince the person exorcising them that they weren't really demonic.

"Ha. Right. The chance of a lifetime. Sure thing there Darth Vader. Since when is forcing an innocent soul to go Darkside a gift?"

The thing glared angrily out at Cal from the depths of young Dolly's eyes. "If you don't let me go…if you screw this up for the poor girl… that damned demon you're so worried about is going to be the _least_ of your problems."

Nothing but talk, Cal was sure of it. She may not be a seasoned veteran at this exorcism stuff but the damn demon inside that helpless teenage girl was powerless now. It was trapped and hating it. Just waiting to get sent back home. It was bound to say just about anything to try and get out of it. So when the possessed girl uttered a few words of latin on her own in time with the last phrase of the exorcism Cal thought nothing of it. The demon came rushing out, the little blonde cheerleader passed out and then it was all over.

Yeah, so the supernatural cloud that came rushing out was white instead of black. No big…it was right up there with all the rest of the weirdness on this one. And that voice that whispered in her ear? The one that promised her a chance to change her life around. Well Cal just chalked it up to the damn thing making one last pot-shot at screwing with her head before it was forced back to hell for good.

She stayed just long enough to check for a pulse, which was steady and strong, and to call 9-1-1 for the girl before heading home. Dean would be pissed she'd done it alone but he wouldn't be home until the morning. Besides, it had been a successful hunt with no injuries for a change and that made it a success in her book no matter what the Caveman had to say about it.

A calming two hour drive home and a hot shower later Cal was curled up in Dean's favorite t-shirt again and snoring softly. All thoughts of weird ass demons and perky annoying teenagers conveniently pushed aside until the morning.

* * *

So like I said: don't be shy : ) Love it or hate it please: review away and let me know what you're thinking. Thanks! 


	4. Chapter 4

_Alright, so this next chapter is a little weird...but my awesome partner in crime JJ and my lovely beta Jackie have assured me that it's weird in a good way. (Sorry Ty3 but there's more WTF to get through before it all ties in together LOL) Please bear with me guys, I promise it'll all start coming together in the next chapter. There are a number of really neat twists to this new little fic so its definitely worth sticking with it : D_

_So read on guys, enjoy and please, please review!!! Whether you like the story or not I'd love to hear from y'all. : )_

_**

* * *

**_

_**Chapter Four**_

Cal was back in the gymnasium of the high school... and wondering how the hell she'd got there. Dolly the cheerleader was there too, though instead of being tied down to a chair and surrounded by a thick line of salt she was spinning cartwheels around Cal. Yeah… annoying much? What the hell was going on?

"Remember what I said about being sorry if you messed things up Caitlin?" Dolly the freaky cheerleader asked, bouncing up to standing inches from Cal's nose.

"Yeah, of course I remember. That was one incredible load of _crap _you tried to feed me about turning the kid's life around. Like I'm stupid enough to believe possession is some sort of gift. You think I was born yesterday or something?."

"Well what would you say if I told you I could prove to you it's not a total load of crap?"

Cal narrowed her eyes at the girl.

"Meaning?"

"Meaning I can give _you _the same gift I gave Dolly here. Do you know where I found our dear little cheerleader? In a hospital. Her parents had tossed her in there for detox because they didn't know what to do with their daughter and her nasty little drug addiction anymore. She was suffering something awful…hated herself for being so weak… and _still_ she was paying people to sneak it in to her. Tragic isn't it? Such a pretty girl so completely screwed up. That's where _I _usually come in."

Cal snorted. "Sounds about right to me. Being that screwed up, the poor girl was wide open for demonic possession. _Of course _you'd pounce on the kid." She _so_ wasn't buying into the whole 'sincere sympathy' crap.

Luminescent blue eyes flashed, searching deep within Cal's. It felt like they were touching straight down to her soul. "I _told you _I'm not demonic…something you would already know if you'd done your research properly. But no, that Dean Winchester is rubbing off on you girl. You're not as careful as you used to be, rushing in head first like that. Sloppy really… dangerous too. You're lucky I've got a sense of humor unlike some of my brothers and sisters out there."

"Could you just cut the crap already. What the hell am I doing here?"

"All in good time Caitlin…all in good time. See, I offered Dolly here the chance to become just like the one person in the world she wanted to be. In her case it was the head cheerleader at her school because the girl was…well to be honest, perfect. Happy family, good grades, popular with everyone at school and not a care in the world beyond the next practice. Now look at her."

"Yeah, impressive. Whatever."

"Tell me O'Sulivan… if you could be anyone, anyone at all… who would it be?"

Insert icy glare aimed at unwelcome demonic being here.

What she was thinking was 'none of your damned business you little…" but "Me" was what came out instead.

"Tsk tsk tsk Cal. That's a very good front you've built up for the world to see. Impressive really. You've actually got everyone convinced that you're happy just the way you are… well, we know better than that don't we?"

"Honey, you don't know _shit_."

"We'll see Caitlin… we'll see." And the room around them started to fade, going white around the edges. The girl's hand was on her cheek as she whispered the words "sleep now… you'll need the rest to deal with what the morning will bring you."

Cal woke in her bed, panting and disoriented; feeling like a fool for letting a _dream _get the better of her like that. The clock said four a.m. and she was wide awake… and _starving. _With Dean gone there was no incentive to laze around in bed for a change and the very thought of pancakes was making her mouth water. Yeah… that was a really good idea. She'd head downstairs and make a batch of pancakes… and some cookies too. God only knew Dean was always happy to see a plate of those. So, without a second thought she hopped out of bed and made a beeline for the kitchen humming to herself the entire way.

* * *

Seven a.m. found Dean at the wheel of the Impala pulling up the drive toward the farmhouse, a dozing Sam in the passenger seat next to him. Another dead end, damn it…three weeks, seven different exorcisms and _still_ no Fran. Dean wasn't just frustrated… he was pissed the hell off. Winchesters do not take helplessness well.

At least he knew Cal had been safe the last couple of days. She'd promised to lay low and sit this one out which was something Dean was extremely thankful for after that last demonic encounter. Her shoulder wouldn't be swollen anymore and that cheek of hers will have faded from angry purple to a scrubbed pink by now. He couldn't wait to see that face of hers again.

After two consecutive days of driving, exorcisms and no sleep all Dean wanted to do was crawl into bed next to Cal. He was going to fall fast asleep to the sound of her deep, steady breathing.

Sam woke up just long enough to make it up to the loft in the barn where he'd been holing up these last three weeks since Fran had disappeared. Dean followed him up and waited just long enough to be sure he'd made it to the hide-a-bed before heading out across the yard. His only thoughts being of clean sheets, warm bodies cuddled together and hours of heavy dreamless sleep.

It felt good to stretch his legs and walk the thirty odd feet to the farmhouse door. He had a slight limp in his right leg where he was still a little tender, but that was to be expected really after having a piano smashed into your side. The injury wasn't serious though. Both the limp and the angry red bruising would be gone in a week or so. It was totally worth it in his book if it meant that one more person had been saved from the clutches of the demon…even if that person hadn't been the one they were looking for. He shook his head, smiling happily to himself as he thought of the way Cal would chew him out when she found out about his latest war wound. She could be a real pain in the ass sometimes… but she cared…and he wouldn't trade her for anything or anyone in the world. Even if she _did _have a bad habit of sniffing out his M&M stashes and eating them all.

The one thing Dean hated about being exhausted was that he wasn't as sharp as he should be. He had a tendency to miss the obvious which was dangerous in their line of work. Deadly even. It was that exhaustion that kept him from seeing right away that something was wrong when he stepped through the screen door and into the kitchen.

Cal was there, mixing something and humming softly to herself which…yeah…was more than a little weird. Still it wasn't completely unheard of. Every so often she liked to make pancakes for breakfast… and hey, she'd probably been worried sick about him when he didn't call so she probably hadn't even slept…which would account for the fact that she was out of bed before ten in the morning…right?

Sure thing.

Made sense.

Of course… when he realized that she'd been _baking_. Actual, honest-to-God Martha Stewart style stuff…well Dean just knew something was wrong. He felt like he'd stepped right into an episode of the Twilight Zone when he took in the sight of Cal in a frilly apron, surrounded by miles and miles of baked goods and breakfast foods. His girl just didn't _do _Martha Stewart. The woman was right up there with Barbie's, the eighties and the color pink to his Cal. He couldn't do anything but stand there, staring slack jawed at this woman who looked so much like Caitlin O'Sulivan but so obviously was not her.

Then she looked up at him and greeted him with a bright smile and a "Honey, you're home!" That's when he realized he was in some serious trouble.

"Cal? Are, uh…are you okay?"

"Of _course _I'm okay. Silly man. I've been up since four this morning getting things ready for you boys. Where's Sam anyway? Breakfast'll be ready in ten, as soon as I get these pancakes done…"

_Silly man? _Okay, Cal just didn't talk like that. She preferred terms like 'stubborn ass of a man' or 'pig headed jerk' damn it! He should _never_ have left her alone. Should have known the demon would find a way to get to her.

"Um, don't take this the wrong way sweetheart but, well… Christo."

"Dude, I'm _not _possessed." She laughed at him sweetly, no trace of the usual annoyed look. "I sent that sucker back to hell last night. It didn't stand a chance."

Wait…did she say? "Are you trying to tell me you went ahead and performed an exorcism…last night…_alone?_"

"Yeah. Of course I did."

Oh, well of _course _she did. Because that was _all kinds_ of smart. The damn woman had lost her freaking mind!

"Are you _insane?!?_"

"Oh, so a girl spends a little time in the kitchen for her man and his brother and suddenly she's a nut job…well isn't that a fine hello. Thanks a lot there Dean."

"But… damn it Cal, this isn't about the baking…well not _completely_ about the baking because, uh, yeah. You baking anything other than pancakes and cookies? Well it's just wrong and you of all people know that! You hate cooking for god's sake and you're terrible at it… That aside though? This thing about going head to head with a damned demon all by yourself is what's got me thinking you've lost your damned mind woman. You could have been killed or _worse. _You could have disappeared just like Fran and I would never have known. 'Least not 'till it was too late." And that was when he noticed the light on in her mother's sewing room. The one room on the entire property that had been doing nothing but gather dust for the better part of Cal's life.

She was talking to him, but he wasn't paying attention…he was moving toward the hallway and that light. His breath caught when he realized the sewing machine was uncovered and had obviously been used. There were three pairs of pants, now neatly hemmed and ironed, hanging off the back of a chair. He whipped himself around, eyes narrowed to slits as he eyed her suspiciously and questioned "_you've been_ _sewing too?_"

Then came the final blow…the biggest surprise of them all. She'd turned her back to him so she could flip the pancakes and thank God she did or he wouldn't have seen them right away.

Wings. Freaking _wings._ Folded delicately in on themselves and growing out from between her shoulder blades as if they belonged there. They arched gracefully at their highest point just below Cal's ears, the tips trailing just below the curve of her bum. White feathers ruffling in the light breeze coming in through the screen door, all but _glowing _in the warm early morning light. Dean couldn't get past _Ohmygod ohmygod ohmyGOD!!! _

Until of course he did… and then he got angry.

"And when the _hell _were you planning to tell me about _those _Cal?"

"Eh?" Right, and he was supposed to believe the clueless act.

"Don't 'eh?' me dammit! You have frigging _wings _sprouting out of your back. You can't pull off the clueless act with that. Now what in the _hell _happened?"

"Wha- _wings_? What the hell are you talking about Dean? Did you get smacked in the head again? Because last I checked I do _not _have…"

Okay…so apparently she _could_ pull of the clueless act…because apparently she had absolutely _no idea_. At least not until one of the feathered arches caught her eye as she looked over her shoulder at him. Then her pretty blue eyes went wide, her mouth formed a perfect little 'o' and the bowl full of pancake batter she was holding slipped out of her hands and fell crashing to the floor.

"Holy freaking _hell!_" she screamed, yeah actually _screamed, _before the wings spread themselves out and blocked his view of her face.

Reacting purely on instinct and adrenaline he ran to her. Somehow managed to maneuver his way around those..._God_! Yeah, they were wings alright… and pulled her in against him. "Whoa, easy there She-Ra. Calm down. They're just wings. Freaking out isn't gonna make 'em go away. You need to relax a little so we can figure out what the hell happened okay?"

"_Calm down_ he says…_Just wings_ he says. Dammit Winchester, 'Just Wings' ?!? I mean, _COME ON_!" Yeah, the chic was hysterical. Not that he could blame her because…well

okay, so she had a point. Really though? Well Dean was thinking worse things could happen. Actually had the balls to say so too.

"Sweetheart, settle down… I mean… there are _definitely_ worse things that could have happened right? Seriously, from where I'm standing this might actually be a _good_ thing. You're cooking… and the food actually looks _edible _for a change…and those wings of yours? Well…" he ran careful finger tips gently through the silky soft white feathers as he held her against him listened to her sigh. "Sexiest damn thing I've ever seen…_seriously_." He whispered hoarsely into her ear. She shivered at the sensation. Hadn't been expecting the double whammy. The feel of rough, callused fingers in her feathers (_oh God she had feathers!) _and the deep rumble of his voice in her ear shot straight through her leaving her feeling weak and lightheaded.

The effect was not lost on Dean either. From the look of him there was no doubt that he knew exactly what it was doing to her.

Yeah… these wings? Maybe not such a bad thing after all… at least as far as Dean was concerned. Whatever it was, they could find a way to reverse it… and until then…well he was going to enjoy this for all it was worth and make damn sure that Cal did too.


	5. Chapter 5

_**Chapter Five**_

Two days. Jack left her alone, locked in that closet two whole days. Of course, she didn't know it had been two days until she was finally let out and told to "get cleaning the damned kitchen, woman". Fear had made her legs weak and when she didn't walk fast enough for him Jack grabbed her by the hair and roughly pushed her there himself. He didn't hit her though…didn't have to. Just kept grabbing at her wherever the hell he felt like it. He'd squeeze and dig his fingers in painfully so that Kate knew she'd carry the marks for days. "I like leaving marks" he'd told her once, a lifetime ago "those bruises show everyone you belong to me."

There was a knock at the door just as Kate finished cleaning up the kitchen. It was no surprise that Jack answered it and escorted a pretty brunette into the house. "Well hello there sweetheart. You find the place alright?" and he was all charm, of course. It was always the same. He'd meet up with or hook up with some nameless pretty face at the bar, have his fun and if he really liked them he'd invite them over for some more 'fun'. Kate never questioned it. Knew better than to say anything. Saying something got her time in the closet...or worse.

She could handle the orders, the bruises, the beatings and beratings…as long as it was just her he was doing it to. She could live with it as long as he wasn't hurting anyone else. She blocked them out mostly so she didn't even have to remember the abuse anyway and it _was_ just her. Jack was a completely different person, a _kind_ person with these nameless pretty girls.

"I've transferred some dough to the joint account." He told her roughly, pushing her purse into her hands. "Take the truck, go run your errands. You've got until four this afternoon…and you'd better get enough of everything this time, got it?" His eyes were black again, the hallucination a by-product of being literally kept in the dark for so long. Scared to speak, unable to do anything but blink owlishly Kate simply stood there trying to process that he was now giving her a half day of freedom if only to run errands.

"Well? What're you waiting for woman. Git going!"

Jack watched her every step of the way to the truck. Didn't take his eyes off the truck until it was rounding the corner of the driveway and gaining speed. Only then did he turn back to the pretty brunette. When he did it was with a wicked smile and a flash of dark, evil eyes.

The brunette's eyes flashed bright yellow and the corners of her mouth curled.

"Has she given you any trouble?"

"No… no she doesn't remember a thing. She's freaking putty in my hands. Even believes the new name."

"Good. Let's try and keep it that way shall we? No roughing the girl up, at least not yet. I want what's mine first."

"But…" Jack whined, clearly disappointed with the orders he was currently being given "…how the hell do you expect me to keep the damned woman in line if I can't…"

The brunette shot him an angry look as he went flying backwards against the wall, grunting loudly with the force of it. "We made a _deal _Jack. You want to keep the girl you've got to live up to your end of it…or I'll find someone else to keep an eye on her until I get what I want."

Jack squeezed his eyes tightly shut, an unbearable burning pressure settling itself like a hand around his lungs. "Okay, okay… I get it. Keep her in good shape. I can do that. Really. I can."

"Good boy. I _knew _you'd see it my way. Just to be sure though, my little friend who's been keeping you company is going to stay with you. Make sure you don't damage what's mine."

There was a loud groan as the burning sensation began to lift. "How long?" were the only two words he was able to get out of his mouth suddenly gone sandpaper dry.

"Eight months to the day, and in case you get any ideas I'll be checking up on you. Whatever the hell you want to do with her after that is completely up to you but until then you keep her healthy. If _anything_ happens to what's _mine_ it'll be _your _ass taking a one way trip to hell… and as you know, I _do _mean that literally."

With a yellow-eyed wink and an evil smile the brunette walked out the door again, leaving Jack still sitting on the floor and gasping for air. All he could think was _thank god _that yellow eyed freak was gone and _thank god_ he was vengeful enough to make all the waiting worth it. The woman had left him once, a long time ago and it was about time he got her back where she belonged. If he had to wait eight months to be able to properly take his anger out on her then so be it. He'd waited years already, a few more months would only fan the flames.

* * *

"I need to get a look at 'em Cal." He'd said. Remembered thinking that it was important for some reason… though right at that moment he couldn't think of why. Not with Cal leaning forward into the wall, back to him palms pressed flat against it and smiling blissfully as he lightly ran his fingers across every last inch of feathered wings.

"Oh my God…the damned things are so _sensitive_." It came out of her a pained growl.

"You want me to stop?" It was a token question seeing as he had no intention of actually doing it. It wasn't just the softness of the feathers goading him on. It was that closed lidded smiling face, that blissful sigh…and hell she even the way she _smelled_. Like fresh air, cookies, clean sheets… and something indefinable that just screamed 'touch me'.

When the words "God no, Dean. Please don't stop" came out he thought he might die right there where he was standing because he was still just touching fingertips to his girlfriend's feathered _wings_. It was all just so strange and… yeah, just a little obscene but in such a delicious way. He was about to say something… something along the lines of _I'm not planning to sweetheart…_but the words never made it past his lips. The screen door he'd come through less than ten minutes earlier crashed open and Sam came stumbling in.

"Dean?!?" He asked, obviously not really awake yet.

"Yeah dude?" he asked, still not taking his hands away from that silky softness.

"Why is the kitchen swimming in food?" it was a question asked around a chocolate chip cookie.

"Cal was baking." Dean answered him as if it was the most normal thing in the world.

"Oh." Sam dug into a big pile of banana muffins and moving towards the counter where there was a huge stack of croissants just calling his name. Apparently he was all stomach this morning. "Did she make coffee too?" he asked, picking one up and taking a huge bite.

"Don't know." Dean leaned in between the feathered arches of Cal's wings to get closer to the delicate shell of her ear. "Did you make coffee sweetheart?" he whispered the question so that it sounded more like he was asking her if she wanted to head upstairs. Cal couldn't help but think that maybe, just maybe they'd all gone completely out of their minds.

Of course Sam chose that moment to lift his head and look, _really look_ at them. Still he was a little distracted by a familiar comforting scent. "Dude, is it just me or does it smell like the ocean in here?" and that's when the sight of Cal's newly acquired wings...and his brothers hands that were trailing all over them finally registered.

"Jesus Christ! Are those…I mean, _damn_ Dean… _wings_?"

"Yeah Sam" Dean sighed "they're wings." and finally took his hands away. They still had to figure out what the hell was going on. "Somebody got it into her thick skull that it was a good idea to go out and perform and exorcism all by her damned self."

"What? She _what?_"

"Yeah, I know. That was pretty much my reaction too."

"What the hell were you _thinking_ Cal?!?"

"Oh, I don't know Sam. Maybe something along the lines that you'd had enough disappointment lately. I figured if I got this one and it turned out not to be Fran at least it'd be one less face to look at with the crushing realization that we still haven't found her." Oh no, had she just said that out loud? Apparently these damned wings came with more than the 'Martha Stewart' curse. She just said exactly what she was thinking and couldn't shut up to save her life when she did.

Dean just shot her a 'what the hell?' kind of look because usually it took no less than half an hour of threats and nagging to get Cal to say what she was really thinking. The girl hid her emotions better than _he _did sometimes.

Sam was shocked too. Maybe it was because he hadn't realized he'd been so transparent…maybe for the same reason Dean was. He wasn't exactly sure himself. What he _was_ sure of though was that the exorcism hadn't gone according to plan. If it _had _Cal wouldn't have a brand new pair of wings, would she?

"Alright…well obviously something went wrong then. What happened?"

To Cal's horror… her mouth opened and once again nothing less than her exact thoughts came spilling out.

"Well, sure...things went a little left of center…took a walk on the weird side during the exorcism. I thought I got it though… it left that annoying teenie-bopper cheerleader's body in a big white cloud of something-or-other and disappeared like it was supposed to. Everything went smoothly…well mostly anyway. At least as far as I could tell. I mean, it tried to tell me it wasn't a demon but I just chalked that up to usual tricks, you know? A last ditch try at deception to get out of the inevitable. Still, the ritual worked. The girl was set free, the demon dissipated and everything turned out okay."

"Except obviously it didn't" Damned Dean and his smart mouth.

"Yeah well, I didn't know that at the time now did I? These wings sure as hell didn't show up right away. I came home, went to sleep, had a weird ass dream and then woke up with the urge to bake..."

Dean and Sam took a good look at each other. "Dream huh?" If there's one thing they'd learned since Sam left Stanford it was that dreams were _not _to be taken lightly. Sam's eyes rested on the arch of one wing, peeking out from above the curve of Cal's shoulder. "I, uh, think we'd better call Dad…and Bobby too. We need to figure out just what exactly Cal pissed off ."

"Yeah… hand me the phone, will ya?" Dean still couldn't tear his eyes off those _feathers_… at least not until the shirt they had torn their way through caught his attention. It was black… and huge…and… "Is that _my _shirt" Not that Cal in his t-shirt was usually a bad thing. As a matter of fact he was a pretty big fan of the sight really. They looked a hell of a lot better on her than they ever did on _him._ But this particular shirt was his favorite…and it now had two rather large, gaping holes where two brand new Cal-sized wings had sprouted and torn their way through. Cal of course just shrugged. "Sorry… it was comfortable…and I had no idea that these would…"

Whether it was the rare apology, or the look of genuine regret it didn't matter. Sure, he'd have to cut the damned thing off of her now. His favorite shirt was ruined beyond repair. But he really didn't care. At this point he was ready to thank whatever the thing was that did this to Cal because for the first time ever she was wide open for him to see. There were no walls to hide what she was really thinking and feeling. He wouldn't want her to stay this way permanently or anything because that snarky hunter who sassed him and insulted him at every opportunity was in fact part of what he loved about her. But for now? To be able to have her like this, open and honest about everything. Yeah, Dean was going to consider it a gift even if she didn't.

"Alright She-Ra. Let's go see if we can get that thing off of you. Then we can see if you've got something in all those clothes of yours that'll work comfortably with those feathered puppies of yours."

* * *

Somehow (though even Cal wasn't quite sure how she'd done it) but somehow she'd managed to convince Dean that it was a good idea for them to head over and check on the state of Fran's bar. Not that her excuse wasn't a sound one. She should have done it the night they'd been out of town really – you know, instead of going solo with an exorcism and getting herself a she-who-will-not-be-named complex. Damned baking and sewing crap - so anyway…her excuse was a good one. Dean wasn't so hot on the idea…you know, on account of the wings and all.

"NO! No way. Not in your life. I am _not _taking you out to Franny's bar with _those _out in the open for everyone to see." Typical Dean 'the caveman' Winchester reaction really. Nothing less than she'd expected.

Something she _hadn't _expected was that apparently one of the so-called 'gifts' that had come with her new feathered body parts was the power of persuasion. When Dean put his foot down (ha, like that had _ever_ worked anyway) Cal had just given him a look and an '_oh come on…please?' _She wasn't about to let a pair of wings slow her down.

To her surprise it actually _worked_ and not just on Dean either. Sam couldn't say no to her no matter how hard he tried…and they didn't even realize it. Well, she'd just have to keep that particular bit of information to herself for now, wouldn't she? For some reason Cal didn't think that those Winchester boys would be as susceptible to her little gift if they knew she had it. There was fun to be had with this and she wasn't going to give it up easy.

* * *

She looked like an angel. An honest-to-God angel like the ones his mother used to tell him about. The ones that were supposed to watch over people and keep them safe. It was a thought that had been sneaking up on him all day, every time he caught the sight of all that white downy softness. Dean wasn't usually the speechless type…but this? Cal with her hair down in a little white halter top and those feathers…well _hell_. She was smiling at him in a way that made his insides drop right out of him through the soles of his feet. Yeah. Victoria's Secret had suddenly lost its appeal. Who needed it anyway when he had the real thing…if even just for a little while.

But of course nothing was simple with them. Ever. As soon as they'd stepped into Chez Henry it became pretty clear that they'd have to leave… immediately. It seemed that along with the incredible superpowers of baking, sewing and turning Dean to a puddle of mush she'd also been hit with some sort of…well he couldn't really put a name to it really…except that he was pretty sure it had everything to do with pheromones and sex appeal.

Now, it's not like it was unusual for the men in the joint to gravitate towards her. Cal, like Dean, was a shameless flirt and…yeah she was easy on the eyes. Alright, so she was downright beautiful. He was used to it really. Just like she was used to him attracting pretty girls and their phone numbers like he was some sort of freaky female magnet. Which…you know, he reallywas. It was a game now between them, this flirting thing. A game that often ended up in bar brawls wherever their source of entertainment for the evening happened to be. This though? This was just freaking ridiculous.

The local boys, every last one of them, had Cal surrounded almost as soon as she'd walked in the door. From the scrub faced teenaged kids to the older local men. _All of them_. Circling around Cal like animals ready to pounce on a tasty bit of meat. When one of the kids got bold and reached out a hand to touch and Cal just let him Dean _knew_ it was time to go. A glance toward Sam who now held Fran's old sawed-off shotgun at the ready told him they were on the same page.

It was the fastest exit they'd ever made…and that was saying a lot. Reaching through the crowd of men he snaked both arms around her waist and hauled her over his shoulder, wings spreading and retracting with the movement. Then Sam was behind him aiming the shotgun at the group. It was obvious they wanted to follow, wanted to get a little more of Cal. Yeah well, not if Dean had anything to say about it.

They were in the Impala racing back down the back roads towards the farmhouse when he remembered being against the whole idea in the first place. _Damn_.

"I knew this was a bad idea." He'd mumbled to himself, earning a nasty little glare from She-Ra in the backseat.

"Yeah well I don't recall you making that much of a fuss about it when I reasoned with you…" she shot back grumpily.

"Uh-huh…and you know, I think that might have something to do with this new little side-effect we've discovered."

Cal of course, ever the mature adult, just stuck her tongue out at him ungratefully.

Dean just stepped on the gas.

"Hey Dean… drop me off by the barn when we get there. I'm gonna take the Mustang and go back. Cal's right, Fran would want the place kept in good shape...and I figure I can talk to the guys, maybe get a clue as to what we're dealing with here." It was the first bit of interest Sam had shown in anything other than their hunt for Fran since she first disappeared and Dean was relieved to see it.

"I want to go too!" Cal whined like a little girl.

Dean chose to ignore her. "Sure Sammy. Dad and Jim ought to be back in a couple of hours… you want me to send one of 'em over to give you a hand when they do?"

"No… no I think I need to do this myself."

"You sure?"

"Yeah… yeah man. I'm sure." And Dean knew he was right.

Cal on the other hand did _not _take kindly to him ignoring her like that.

"Dude… I said I want to go back there too."

"Not a chance"

"And why the hell not?"

"Oh I don't know…how 'bout those guys for starters. That flirting thing you do so well… _that_ I can be cool with. The hands on thing that they were doing? Not so much. By the way, since when do you just let anyone lay their hands on you like that? That dude was reaching in for a full on _grope_ and you were ready to just _let him _do it."

Apparently she hadn't even realized it, at least not until Dean mentioned it. At least not if the open mouthed, shocked expression was any indication.

"Yeah, no offense sweetheart, but you're not going _anywhere _until we get a handle on those wings of yours."

Victoria's Secret Angels fantasy be damned. These wings suddenly weren't as great a thing as he'd originally thought. As usual the woman was turning out to be a major pain in his ass.

* * *

Days like these were a godsend to Kate. Helped her stay sane when she thought she'd lose it completely. When even her own name started to feel confusing.

Days like these were always the same too, but that's why she enjoyed them. First there was a quick trip to the bank to withdraw whatever Jack felt was enough for groceries and then she had the whole day to do with as she pleased. Usually she'd grab a coffee and take a drive down to the park by the school.

She liked to park there and watch the kids play. It was easy to remember things there, things from a happier time. Kate remembered volunteering there, at the elementary school, when she and Jack had first started dating. He'd put a stop to that pretty quickly though.

She used to sit out by the play structure. Used to enjoy feeling the warm sun on her skin and the fresh air fill her lungs. She used to…until just a few weeks ago. One of the women from the school had come up to say hello. That was fine…until Kate realized the woman was calling her by the wrong name. Wouldn't believe her either when she tried to tell her otherwise. "No, no hun. Your name's _not _Kate… good lord what has that man being doing to your head girl? I've known you your whole life. I was your fourth grade teacher for crying out loud. I ought to know your name. _You_ ought to know your name."

That's when Kate realized the woman was probably more than a little unhinged, because _of course_ she knew her own name. It was _hers_ for God's sake, wasn't it? She'd avoided the poor woman ever since. Kate had enough to deal with in Jack…she couldn't handle the rambling of a delusional woman on top of it all too.

So she was sitting there, in the drivers seat of the truck with the keys still in the ignition ready to drive off at the first sight of the crazy lady. The healing warm heat of the sun on her skin after two days locked in a closet felt wonderful. Closing her eyes she leaned back determined to just soak it up and enjoy. After all, there was no telling when the next opportunity would come. Might as well take advantage of it while she could right?

Wasn't long before her mind was drifting to happier places in that realm between waking and dreaming. There was a familiar face there. A large man with a blinding smile and a shaggy mane of dark hair. Yeah, she loved dreaming. Especially when it involved _this guy_.

She was behind a bar pouring drinks and he was on the other side of it ordering up three beer. Kate of course knew the order…though she couldn't think of why right then. Not with that smile blinding her so thoroughly that _he _was the only thing that occupied her mind.

It wasn't long before he had the drinks in hand and was moving back across the room towards the pool tables again where a man and woman… people she was sure she should know but like so many other things just couldn't remember why… were playing against each other. The game was interesting enough, the chemistry between the two players more so and the tall man at the table keeping their drinks company most of all.

Then there were strangers coming through the doors. Every last person in the bar froze…well, everyone except the man and woman playing pool. Apparently they'd decided it was a perfect time to start making out right in the middle of the place for everyone to see.

There was a scuffle. One of the strangers had grabbed the girl by the hair and it looked like he was going to haul her out of there. Kate didn't budge though. She didn't know how exactly but she just knew the girl could handle it. Turned out she was right too because moments later the girl was throwing the first punch…the kind that started bar-wrecking brawls.

Kate heard her own heartfelt "Oh _great_. Here we go again!" followed by the warning: "Do not throw anyone into the mirror back here this time girl! I just got the damned thing replaced from the last time you did and it wasn't cheap." Because apparently this was a common occurrence in the place.

She heard the man, the one who'd been playing pool, call out to the girl that it was time to go and there was a name in there. One that seemed familiar. Right. Sam. The tall dark haired man with the thousand-watt smile. His name was 'Sam'.

Kate opened her eyes with the name on her lips, smiling as she turned the key and started the truck. There were still a few hours before she could do groceries before heading home and she had a sudden urge to visit the library. Still smiling as she entered the large grey-bricked building Kate was thinking that as far as fantasies went, this Sam guy was by far the best. Too bad the guy wasn't real.

* * *

_So the story progresses... a little more is revealed. Next chapter should reveal what exactly is to blame for Cal's current state. Fran will be popping up again soon as well. Hope you guys are still enjoying this : ) Looking forward to your reviews. Thx!_


	6. Chapter 6

_Alright...another chapter here for you guys. Thanks so much for your reviews Ty3 and Dark Celeste. You've no idea how much I enjoy them. : ) Keep them coming please _

_So I have an explanation for Cal's wings in this one...and Sam is doing a little better, though still obviously missing and searching for Fran. I've had a few guesses pm'd to me on sntv, where I have also been posting these fics. Guesses about where Fran is. She's around, if you squint a little you'll see her lol She'll be making an actual appearance at the end of Chapter Seven and that's about as much as I can say without giving anything away...feel free to get in touch if you guys have any guesses, questions or requests for the fic along the way okay?Also I'd love to hear what you're favorite parts of the story are. : ) I get alot of that over on the other site and I love it. Adds an interesting challenge to the writing process LOL_

_And Ty3? About the lack of reviews from other readers... maybe everyone else is just really shy? LMAO Who knows. If I get more reviews then great but for now I'm thankful for the two wonderful reviewers who are currently following my little fic. Thanks so much guys!!! and enjoy chapter six : D _

**_

* * *

_**

_**Chapter Six**_

Well, you can take Cal from the bar…but you can't stop the bar from coming to her apparently. At least, that's the conclusion Dean had come to after a few days of her new winged state. They'd had more visitors…_male _visitors…at the farmhouse in the last forty-eight hours than they'd had in all the months since coming back from New York.

It had started with one guy…and old friend of her father's apparently. Sleazy old guy really, if you asked Dean. Cal, of course, didn't ask Dean but that was okay because he went ahead and volunteered the opinion it anyway.

The man…his name was Joe or George or something… Dean didn't really care to remember for sure… anyway Cal led the guy into the kitchen where she offered him his weight in pastries and coffee, making idle chit chat while Dean glared away at the both of them. When… Gary?...whatever-his-name-was…asked Cal if he could touch her wings though, well Dean just showed him the door. And yeah, Cal was right. He was way too rough and more than a little rude about it. Though in his defense? So not his fault.

He was blaming the insane jealousy thing on the wings. Had to be some freaky side effect. No other explanation really… well except maybe the way Cal reacted to having her wings stroked… which was not something he wanted anyone else to have the pleasure of experiencing. Yeah, he was jealous alright. And if anyone had a problem with that they'd just have to freaking deal with it. Cal was his and damned if he wasn't staking his claim. A guy's gotta do what a guy's gotta do right?

Things kind of went down hill from there. A few single stragglers at first, mostly people who'd known Cal when she'd been little…then the teenagers started coming by in groups of twos and threes. One particular group had thought up a particularly brilliant plan, and by brilliant Dean of course meant _suicidal_. Two of them sat on the porch to chat with Dean while the other snuck into the farmhouse through the front door. A few minutes later Sam (who, thankfully, had been eating lunch with Cal at the time) came out the screen door carrying the kid by the scruff of his neck and the seat of his pants.

Dean pulled a gun and happily instilled the fear of God in them all with one dark look as Sam literally tossed the kid he was carrying out onto the lawn. Smart kids like those? Yeah, they didn't need to be told to leave, they did it all by themselves.

That's when the Winchester boys started taking turns on the porch by the door with their rifles.

Now every time a car pulled up Dean just aimed, fired a warning shot and pointed them in the right direction. Away. Cal was officially under house arrest. No nights out and no visitors…at least not any of the male persuasion. No leaving the house alone either. Too risky with all these guys stopping in, hanging around. To say that she was unhappy about it was an understatement. To say that she was doing her damnedest to make his life a living hell because of it?…Well, yeah. That one was pretty accurate, actually.

It was just past suppertime, which for Sam had consisted of homemade roast beef with potatoes, carrots and garlic bread thank you very much. Dean had been forced to order himself _another _pizza because Cal refused to feed him. Her way of rebelling against her current state of house arrest. All that mouth watering food and not a bite…yeah, when it came to payback that woman really did know where to hit.

He was taking a bite out of his third piece of pizza, which of course was cold…again…while watching the sunset and cursing winged women and their stubborn asses when he saw the dust cloud in the distance. Someone was taking the dangerous trip down their dirt road right towards the business end of his rifle. Grumpy as he was Dean was already taking aim. Took him a minute to realize it was his father's truck. _Thank God_. He thought to himself. _Reinforcements._

He'd brought Jim back with him and picked up Bobby along the way. Of course given the last few days' events Dean's first thoughts were of suspicion. How far exactly did this thing of Cal's reach? Would Jim and Bobby be affected by it? And what about his Dad? Thankfully so far Sam had been immune to the effects of Cal's predicament but yeah … having to warn his Dad off of touching Cal's wings? Possibly at gun point? Well now that would be just a little awkward now wouldn't it?

When Bobby called out a hello, though and grinned knowingly at Dean he knew everything would be okay. If they'd been feeling the pull they wouldn't have bothered with hellos…would have just headed straight for the farmhouse, his Cal and her wings.

"Hey Dean, I've got some good news for ya…sort of." Finally, back to business. You know, and men that weren't lust crazed and after his girl.

"Oh really? Well it just so happens that I could go for a bit of good news about now given what the last few days've been like." He could hear his dad laugh clear across the yard even as Bobby's choice of words 'sort of' sank in. There wasn't time to wonder just what exactly it was that Sam had told him about the last few days. Dean needed to know:

"Uh, Bobby…what exactly did you mean 'sort of'?"

"Well, I think I figured out what it was your Cal's got herself mixed up in."

Oh really? Well then, this he wanted to hear. "Alright, hit me with it."

"You're not going to like it. If I'm right that hellcat of yours managed to piss off something big and powerful."

Yup, sounded about right. Right up Cal's usual alley as a matter of fact. Because really? Well it took a special kind of talent to pick up evil sadist stalker vampires and to become best friends with people who could literally just dream up tulpas. So this whatever-it-was she'd messed around with…yeah it was pretty much a given that it be big and powerful.

"Why am I not surprised? Okay…so what is it exactly that we're dealing with then?"

"You ever study 'A Midsommer Nights Dream' in high school Dean?" Bobby asked.

"Huh?" Sounded more like Sam's type of deal.

"It's Shakespeare for God's sake." Right…yeah, way out of his depth there.

"SAM!" he could tell already he'd need an interpreter to get through this. An interpreter…and lots of coffee. Dean could only hope that Cal would let him near the coffee maker or he'd never make it through this.

* * *

They were sitting around the kitchen table now. Everyone but Dean digging into Cal's delicious roast. He still wasn't allowed. Well, at least she'd let him have coffee. That Tim Horton's stuff was okay as far as take out went, but he preferred the homemade stuff…you know…now that he finally had a _home _to make it in.

"So what you're saying is that Cal pissed of a _fairy_?" There was disbelief in his voice that just couldn't be suppressed. Only his girl…seriously.

"Well no, the Celts call them 'fae' actually and yeah…from the sounds of it Cal expelled it from a body it was trying to help. These things don't help humans very much so when they do it's a big deal. I'll bet she pissed it off about as much as anyone could."

"Great. As if pissing off sadistic vampires wasn't bad enough…now she's gotta go after a higher power. Just exactly how powerful is this thing anyway?"

Bobby made a big deal of examining Cal's wings before turning back to Dean to answer. "Dude, these are actual _real _feathered wings… and you're asking me how powerful this thing is?"

"Okay, I get it. Pretty damned powerful. So how do we fix this then?" He asked waving a frustrated hand in the direction of his pheromone enhanced, winged girlfriend.

"Well, that I'm not sure of yet. Most likely she'll have to help someone to get the fae's attention. Wouldn't hurt to go back and check on the girl that it was helping. Make sure she's okay. Then when the fae makes contact with her maybe if she apologizes and makes amends it'll get tired of this little joke it's playing and turn her back into her normal self."

"Wait… make _amends?_" Dean did not like the sound of this. "Can't we just kill the damned thing and be done with it?" Because that was so very much more appealing then catering to the whims of a freaking fairy for God's sake.

"Well yeah," it was John's turn to speak, and he did because he knew that tone of voice and could tell how upset Dean really was. "we _could_ just kill it…but then Cal would stay just as she is and we'd probably end up pissing off the rest of them. You want a set of those things too?"

He was _this close_ to saying something along the lines of _depends…can't say I'd hate having chics come after me like that _but this was his father he was talking to and Dean doubted he'd appreciate the humor. Besides, Cal had only just agreed to let him near the _coffee maker_ again and she was watching him closely, too closely; Obviously just waiting for him to come out with a smart assed comment. Dean wasn't about to give her another excuse to keep denying him her mouth watering food.

"Good point. So what then? Where do we take it from here?"

"Well Bobby's here to help now…so I'm thinking that the two of you can help Cal track down that girl and make sure everything's okay. Sam, Jim and I can keep up with the search for Fran…"

"…and maybe we'll get lucky and all this will end up being connected somehow."

"Yeah? Lucky Sam? How do you figure?"

"Because Dean, we're stronger as a team right? This'll be a whole lot easier to deal with if we're all on the same page, working together."

And Dean couldn't argue that really, now could he? So he shrugged his agreement and reached for the plate of fresh baked cookies Cal had just set down on the table for them all…only to have his hand smacked away with a wooden spoon.

"Goddamit Cal! That's my firing hand. What the hell?"

"Yeah? Well it's your own damned fault isn't it? I told you: _you _don't get to eat what I cook." There was hearty laughter coming from the four men sitting around him at the table and it came in stark contrast to the dark scowl that colored his face. "Don't you be giving me that look. _You're _the one who decided to 'put your foot down'. Like I said: you want to put your foot down, keep me from going anywhere or let anyone visit me that's just fine. I have two feet of my own dude, and I'm just as capable of putting them down too. If you can't stand the heat then stay out of the damned kitchen."

Well, it wasn't everyday someone was able to put Dean Winchester in his place. Sam was used to it by now…and Bobby had witnessed it once before, months earlier when they'd dropped the Impala off before heading out to kill some vampires. Jim had never seen anyone but John do it before though…and John? Well he was just plain impressed. Looked like his boy had finally found a girl who could handle him.

* * *

Something had changed while she'd been out. Kate didn't know what exactly had brought it about…but yeah, something had definitely changed. Jack was…different. More so than usual.

When she came into the house juggling grocery bags he just took them from her and led her into the spare bedroom. Now…Kate knew the drill. Usually there would be the usual rough and tumble games Jack loved to play. The kind that left her bruised and feeling lost and broken inside. The kind he hadn't initiated in weeks. Well, it wasn't like her luck could hold out forever…right?

Except that what she expected wasn't what happened. Instead of touching her he actually just turned away and walked back out the door. There was the click of a lock after he closed the door and that's when she knew…something had changed. This room…was now her closet apparently. What in God's name was going on?

* * *

A routine emerged between Kate and Jack over the following couple of days. She spent most of her days locked in 'her room' now. Jack would let her out three times a day to cook his breakfast, lunch and supper for him. The rest of the time, other than a little shouting from the other side of the door when he was _really _drunk, Kate was left alone to her own devices.

The change made her nervous. Jack just didn't do change. Her nerves were so overwrought that most days it made her nauseous, and it was always at it's worst first thing in the morning. So much so that worshipping the porcelain altar became a part of her morning routine. Took up a good five of the twenty minutes she was now allowed in the bathroom before breakfast to shower and freshen up.

It wasn't all bad though. If anything life was now easier this way…almost pleasant. Almost, because life with Jack…well she knew by now that there was no such thing as 'pleasant'.

There was time now, with Jack no longer eating up every last minute of her day. Time to nap if she wanted to…and she was surprised at how often she did. Seemed to her that she was always exhausted though she couldn't figure out why. Maybe it was just stress? If it was turning her stomach over every morning then it would make sense that it would make her tired too…at least she _thought _it did. She wasn't a psychiatrist or anything so there was no way to know for sure was there?

When she wasn't napping Kate would daydream. That was the best part of being locked in this room of hers. She'd sit by the window in the warmth of the sun and just let her broken mind drift aimlessly. There were memories there…and sometimes they'd drift out into the open where she could see them. Things Jack had said and done to her in the past. More often than not though her mind chose to create it's own entertainment, in the form of a very large young man who was nothing but gentle. Her Sam. He really was hers too because he was nothing but the creation of her imagination.

Every time she dreamed him up he'd have a new facet, a new depth. He was like a character being written into a story, as intricate and complicated as an actual flesh-and-blood person. There were books on a shelf in the room. Nothing fancy…just some old paperback novels and a couple of do-it-yourself books on woodworking and renovations. Kate found herself reading them not so much out of boredom but because her Sam enjoyed reading just about anything he could get his hands on. Yeah, it was a little weird, wanting to feel closer to a make-believe person. But this fantasy was the one thing Jack couldn't take away from her and for that reason alone Kate was determined to hang on to it with everything she had.

"Oh Sam." She sighed closing her eyes as she drifted of to sleep. "Why couldn't he be more like you?"

* * *

Sam was standing in the middle of Fran's bedroom…their bedroom, watching the sun rise over the trees that surrounded the property. He'd done this often in the weeks since she'd disappeared. Not so strange really. Being in their space, the one they'd shared and loved in…it made him feel close to her. Like she wasn't God-only-knew-where and he wasn't spending every living second searching for her.

He didn't know if it was that freaky psychic thing of his or just his desperate need to have her back again but he could swear that when he was there they somehow shared a connection. This particular morning the connection made itself known in the sound of her voice. Barely a whisper in the waning darkness…his name on a sigh. "Oh Sam…" Heart clenching painfully in his chest he fought the tears that threatened to fall. There would be time enough for those when she was back, wrapped safely in the circle of his arms. Until then…well he had work to do.

Another exorcism…another young woman who sounded like she might be Fran. This one a homeless girl who lived nearby in downtown Ottawa. Well at least they wouldn't be far if Dean and Bobby needed their help with the fae. He was glad too that Pastor Jim had decided to stay and help. These exorcisms were just a hell of a lot easier to deal with when he wasn't the one speaking the latin and causing the pain. There was only one person he'd speak those words for…and they hadn't found her yet.

Seeing her face in the reflection of his own he reached up a hand and touched his fingers to the cool window pane. "I'm coming honey. Can't help but feel like it's taking too long…but I _am_ coming." Another whisper, this one his own into the rising light of the morning. He only hoped that somehow…some way she could hear him…wherever she was.

* * *

Cal was so over this shit. A whole week had passed since wings… yeah _wings_… had sprouted out from between her shoulder blades. As happy as she was that she could now cook and sew…okay, not really…but still as much as she got the urge to do those things… well it was getting old. This jealousy thing of Dean's? Well she could definitely do without it… and this house arrest thing he'd imposed on her? Cal had decided she'd had enough of it already.

Sure at first it had been entertaining. Watching Dean go all caveman on her, scaring away all those men and boys that were drawn by whatever the heck it was that the fae had decided to curse her with. Like the wings themselves hadn't been bad enough…

Then there was that time they stole away together, just the two of them and the bed their only witness. Watching him fall apart for her when they were alone, worshipping her like she was the only woman in the universe.

Times like those she thought that maybe…maybe the wings weren't such a bad thing after all.

Times like those love shone through those hazel eyes unchecked and unguarded like she'd never seen before.

Times like those stole the breath from her lungs, the words from her mouth and left only that pure emotion reflected in the depths of her own clear blue eyes.

That being said however, it had been a good two days since the last time they'd been alone in the same room together. The general urge to act like Martha Stewart was still there…but the desire was gone. In its place was a restless unease that no amount of time out back throwing knives and shooting at targets could shake.

Cal needed to move. Needed to drive. Needed to get out and raise a little hell…and that need…it was always worse at night. Like now. Everyone was sleeping. Even Dean was dozing in his nightly spot on the porch by the door. She could hear the soft snuffle/snore that spoke of shallow sleep. Knew from experience that the slightest sound that seemed out of place would send him out of his chair, rifle aimed and at the ready.

But that was okay… because Cal had a plan. This girl wasn't just going to sit idly by and let her man tell her what to do. _Hell_ no. Caitlin O'Sulivan was going _out_ tonight…without her Winchester in tow.

She had her little red blouse on. The one that never failed to drive Dean absolutely insane. Probably not a great idea considering how pissed off he was going to be when he realized she was gone…but after a week of that same old white halter top, the only one that worked around her wings, she needed a little color. Not her fault that the only other shirt she owned that fit happened to be _that one. _

It was just past ten. The last few days had been rough on all of them so it wasn't surprising that they'd all passed out already. Fine by Cal really because it made sneaking away a lot easier. Would probably buy her more time out too.

Five minutes. That was all she needed. She shimmied down the eaves trough, ran across the field towards the barn. Sam had parked her Mustang out there when Dean had tossed him the Impalas keys to go out to Fran's bar. Cal had to smile. Dean would hear her take off in the car…would see her go…but would have to wait for Sam to bring him his car before he could follow her. Unless of course he wanted to drive a tractor… but somehow she thought not.

Okay, so maybe more like ten minutes. Getting behind the wheel with a set of wings turned out to be a little more complicated than she'd expected. Turned out to involve a lot of colorful language too…still she managed it…and when she finally did tear out of there it was with a squeal of tires and an evil, satisfied smile.

There was only the slightest twinge of guilt when she saw a tiny Dean in her rearview mirror trying in vain to catch up with her…on foot. Yeah, dude was definitely going to be _furious_…but hey, she didn't have to deal with it…at least not until he caught up to her. _If _he could figure out where she was going before she decided to head home again on her own.

* * *


	7. Chapter 7

_**Chapter Seven**_

Limoges wasn't far at all. A half hour's drive from North Dundas…okay, okay an hour's drive for normal people… a half hour for her though… and that close to home Cal figured it was the safest place to go. Dean would expect her to go a lot farther. He knew exactly how she ran.

So when she walked in to the one of two bars in the little town it was with the confident strut of someone knowing she was getting away with something.

The pull of the wings wasn't as strong here apparently. Then again maybe she just had better control over it. There were quite a few men in the place and, yeah, she had their attention alright…but they stayed in their seats and didn't surround her like the local boys had at Fran's bar. Of course that probably had something to do with the hilt of the knife sticking out of her boot that she hadn't bothered to hide. She'd been taken by surprise that first day, by the strong reaction she seemed to ignite in the opposite sex. Now though…now she was prepared. No way she was just going to give in to those urges again. Well, maybe not much anyway.

A few hours. That's all she wanted. A little flirting, a little pool, a good hustle just to remind herself that she really wasn't this Martha Stewart knockoff with wings. Not in real life anyway. And yeah, she wanted a good fight. A good clean…okay, _messy_… a good _messy_ fight involving yours truly kicking some serious ass. One look at the greasy guy standing by the bar cockily eyeing her up and down and she _knew_ she was going to get exactly what she'd come her for. Not that she'd doubted it. It just usually took a little more work to find it is all.

* * *

"Dude, you've got to get back here. _Now_ .She just freaking took off and all I've got to follow her in is the damned _tractor_. I need my car"

"What? You just let her sneak out? Damn it Dean, you _had_ to know this was coming. Cal's just not the kind of girl to just sit around and do as she's told. What the hell happened?"

"Yeah, yeah. I know Sammy, _I know._ I was just… I fell asleep alright? I let my guard down and now… Look, just _get over here_ alright? We've got to find her before she finds whatever trouble it is she's out there looking for."

* * *

It was strange really, the way everyone just accepted her wings as if they were a commonplace thing. There was fascination and the insatiable urge to touch downy feathers but never any of the shock she always expected. It always amazed her that the 'My God!! _WINGS_?!?" never came.

So she was leaning over the pool table, on her third hustle of the night and thinking that these wings were making this _way_ too easy when the greasy guy finally came over and made contact. The respectful distance everyone had kept thanks to her large nasty knife was violated with a sweaty hand firmly placed on jean clad behind. Cal froze mid shot, never even making contact with the cue ball. Eyebrows and wings arched in tandem as she slowly turned her head and made eye contact with the guy. Something dark and dangerous flashed in the depths of angry blue eyes and the growl that came from deep within her was a sharp contrast to the hearty laugh she'd let out only moments before.

"Buddy, you'd better take that hand off my ass before I remove it from you _permanently_."

Slick, smug smirk spread across rodent-like features. The guy had _some_ freaking _nerve_. "Aw, come on angel…just looking to have a little fun. You _know_ you like my hand right where it is."

Yeah, that guy? He'd just pushed _all kinds _of wrong buttons. Cal was gonna show him just _exactly_ what he was going to do with that smug, macho, chauvinist attitude of his…Standing tall, wings spread wide and looking as dangerous and imposing as she ever had Cal towered over the guy…even with the inch and a half he had over her.

"Dude, you have _no idea_ who you're messing with. I am _no _angel." She felt the welcome adrenaline start to pump through her veins for the first time in days. That's when Cal just _knew _that sneaking out and running off tonight had been a good idea. This was going to be _fun…_and it was _exactly _what she'd needed.

* * *

"Damn it! Where the hell did you _go _Cal?" Dean muttered to himself darkly, as if she were right there next to him and ready to answer.

He and Sam had been in Ottawa for hours already, had hit two dozen bars looking for Cal. Dean was starting to think that maybe he was in the wrong place. Thing was though, he knew her well enough to be positive this would be the place she'd run to for a night out. Downtown Ottawa, unlike all the small towns she could have gone to around here instead, had hundreds of pubs, bars, dance clubs and such. Cal wouldn't just go to the nearest town with a bar…she'd want to go to the place she be the hardest to find. Ottawa was the best damned place for that within comfortable driving distance.

And _of course _she would have turned her frigging cell phone off. God forbid she actually have to _talk _to him. Oh hell no! That'd kind of ruin a fun night out there, wouldn't it?

"I don't think she's here Dean." Sam said quietly as they entered yet _another _little hole-in-the-wall pub.

"Yeah, me neither. She wouldn't be caught dead in a place like this. I mean 'The Honest Lawyer'? What kind of a name is that?"

Sam just rolled his eyes and sighed.

"No Dean…I mean I don't think she's in Ottawa." And now Dean was the one doing the eye-roll.

"Dude, I _know _her. She'll want to make it as hard as humanely possible for me to find her. Where else would she go?"

"Well that's exactly it though isn't it? You _know_ her. Well enough to be able to predict where she'll end up. Thing about that though is that she knows _you_ too, doesn't she?"

"I'm not following Sam."

"Dude…she knows the first place you'll look is here. I'll bet you cash money she didn't even come this far."

"Wait…so you're saying she probably just went a town or two over knowing damned well I'd come straight to Ottawa?" Sam shrugged a little and gave him that 'well _yeah' _look that _always_ annoyed him to no end. Dean had to close his eyes. Had to or he would have given in to all that red he was seeing and ended up _breaking _something. She'd played him like a stacked deck.

Seconds later they were walking across the parking lot towards the Impala when Dean's cell phone went off. It was their father. Neither bothered with hello's. There was only one reason he'd call.

"Where?"

"A little bar off the main street. Someplace called…Limoges?"

"You sure it's her?"

"We haven't checked inside yet but I'm looking at her little red Mustang as we speak."

"Do me a favor Dad? Hot wire the damned thing and take it back to the farm for me when you see us pull up…and keep an eye on her until I do. Those damned wings… I don't even want to _think _about what she's been doing all this time."

* * *

When Sam and Dean walked into the bar a half hour later it was to the sight of Cal, wings spread wide and doing her damnedest to intimidate this guy…this asshole who kept calling her 'angel'. She wasn't armed…yet… though Dean spotted the knife hilt riding along her inner leg. Hard not to, it was one of those big nasty ones she liked to take with her when they were on a hunt.

Sam just stood there next to him, wide eyed with the weirdest little smile on his face.

"You know… I saw this in a movie once…only it was a guy who was supposed to be an archangel or something. He was played by John Travolta. Cal is _definitely_ no angel, even with those wings of hers but this is '_battle_' if I've ever seen it."

Dean groaned loudly. Battle huh? Yeah, great. Couldn't say he hadn't been expecting it. Luckily though…a little damage control and the situation might actually be salvageable for a change.

"Okay She-Ra. You've had your fun. Time to head out." He smiled as her head swung to the side with that wide-eyed look of shock he so rarely got to see. So, maybe the night hadn't been a total loss after all.

"I'm not ready to go yet Dean. This dude needs to learn that grabbing a girl's ass and then getting cheeky about it isn't such a gentlemanly thing to do." Yep. She was all riled up and ready for a fight. Too bad her night was over. He'd haul her over his shoulder again if he had to, but she was leaving. With him. Now.

Stepping between Cal and the guy she'd decided to rip into tonight he made it impossible for her to make any kind of move. "Dean…he put his _hand _on my _ass_…"

"Yeah, and it wouldn't have happened if you'd just listened to me and stayed home like I _told _you to."

She knew he was right…she knew she wasn't going to get to throw any punches. He could tell the second Cal resigned herself to the fact that her night had just come to an end…and then the idiot behind him decided it would be a good time to open his mouth.

"It's about damned time man. You better learn to keep that woman o'yours in line."

The guy was freaking _suicidal_. Just standing there like that, as if he hadn't just let out a war cry and put his life on the line. Staring Cal down for all she was worth.

And Cal? She had daggers shooting out her baby blues. If looks could kill the dude would have died a hundred times over already.

"_Please_ tell me he didn't just say what I _think_ he just said." Her voice was deadly calm and Dean knew…just _knew _that there would be no leaving now. Not until the place was in shambles and Cal gave this guy the what-for he had coming to him. Well hell, the last bar fight he'd been in was _months _earlier…might as well have a little fun with it, right?

"Well honey, I'm pretty sure he just said…"

"I _said_ that you need to learn how to keep that _woman _of yours in line man. _My _woman wouldn't dare talk to me like that… or anyone else for that matter. Y'see she _knows_ her place. Cleaning my house, cooking my meals and taking care of me and what's mine."

Okay, first mistake? The guy had the nerve to interrupt him. Second mistake? That whole 'a woman's place' load of bullshit? Yeah, that right there had just sealed his fate.

"Oh you _sonofa…_" Uh-huh, there it was. He'd seen _spirits _cringe at the sound of that growl. Dude might be the worst kind of ignorant but he didn't deserve to die, so Dean got in her way before she could lunge at the sleazebag.

"Yeah, _that's right_ dude. You show that chic who's boss."

Well now. Dean wasn't about to just _stand there_ and let this guy talk about Cal like that. I mean, he'd just gone to all that trouble…putting himself in Cal's way just to save the guy a trip to the emergency room and the _idiot_ had to go and push her some more like that? Dude had it coming, whatever it was Cal wanted to do to him.

So he figured, why not let her have a little fun with the guy? She'd had a good point really, the last couple of days cooped up in the house had been hard. Looked like there would be a few more at least before they could do anything about the wings problem. So yeah, let her blow off some steam before heading back. God only knew it would make _his _life a little more pleasant.

So he gave that suicidal asshole of a guy a cold hard look, winked at Cal and just stepped aside. Cal didn't need permission. Would have probably _hit_ him if he'd dared a 'go ahead sweetheart, have a little fun'. So he said nothing…and watched her lunge at the guy…who oddly enough had _no trouble _holding his own…at least at first.

Somehow during that initial lunge the dude had managed to pin Cal to the bar, with her back to him so she couldn't move out of his grasp. His fingers twined into her feathers and Dean watched his eyes glaze over. He was about to take that last step closer and rip the guy a new one with bare hands when he realized there was no need. Cal bent her leg at the knee and caught him squarely between the legs. A money shot with the heel of her boot. The guy went down like the Titanic when it hit that iceberg. Dean could do nothing but laugh.

He watched the grin spread across Cal's face as she turned towards him. "Hey Winchester? I think I'm ready to go home now." Dean grinned back at her and made a big show of opening the door for her to step through. Wasn't until he glanced over at Sam that he realized something wasn't right.

"Dude, you alright?" Sam was staring at the guy on the floor…couldn't take his eyes off him. Mouth set in a grim line, shoulders locked and tense…looking like he was about to hit the guy harder than even _Cal_ had a minute ago.

"Hey…Sammy? Time to go."

Sam shook himself, looking and feeling as if he was pulling himself out of a dream. He knew the guy on the floor. Not personally. Had never actually met him…but Franny had showed him a picture once. She only had the one. Said she kept it around just to remind herself…what it had been like and why it was so important for her to be strong for herself now.

Eyes never leaving the man's face Sam answered Dean. "Yeah man…let's go." And with a final dark look he turned and stalked out the door.

* * *

Sam was driving. Dean was in the backseat with Cal, Sam was driving and that was the _only _reason it took so long to realize the car was going the wrong way. At least that was what Dean was telling himself, because no _way_ it could have been from being so close to those damned wings. Sure there dude, you just keep telling yourself that.

"Where're we going Sam?"

"Following the guy from the bar."

Wait, they were _what _now?

"And why exactly are we doing that?"

"Call it a hunch."

A… a hunch? Dude wanted him to just follow blindly on nothing more than 'I've got a hunch'? No way. Dean needed more detail than that.

"Alright Sammy, what's up? Talk to me man."

"That guy? His name's Jack. Fran used to…they used to…he used to hit her."

"_What_?"

Evidently that was one Cal didn't know about. "Dude, why didn't you say something in the bar? I would have _clobbered _the guy if I'd known…"

"You heard the guy Cal. He kept talking about 'his woman'. He's obviously beating up on someone else now. You think we could have helped her if you beat him unconscious? Only way to do this is to follow him home and get her the hell out of there."

Okay then, so Sam was playing the knight-in-shining-armor card. Dean could understand it. Doing something about this asshole who'd hurt Fran would help his brother feel like he was doing something…even if Fran wasn't here to see it. Well, couldn't say he was disappointed. Dean himself had really wanted to do some damage to the guy himself earlier… after all, he _had _groped his Cal.

Little did any of them know just exactly what it was they would find when the got there.

* * *

Kate was sitting by the window when she heard the front door slam shut. Jack was home…and from the sounds of it he'd had more than a little bit to drink. Holding her breath she waited for the shouting to start. The banging to rage on against the flimsy door that was her only protection against him.

There were a series of thumps, sounds she knew by experience were Jack stumbling around the living room. He was quiet tonight. Had he brought a woman home then? Turning the light on she moved towards the window and looked out into the yard. Jack's run down old junker was parked in the drive, crookedly of course. One day he'd end up killing someone…or maybe himself driving drunk like that…

His car was the only one there though…so not a woman then. Just Jack.

She was turning away from the window when something shiny caught her eye from just beyond the front yard. It was black…with chrome detail…a car? Yeah…a big, black, shiny monster of a car hiding in the shadows just beyond the driveway. Impossible to tell if there was anyone sitting in the car though. It was parked to far away and there wasn't enough light for her to see that far away. _Ah well_ she thought to herself _wouldn't be the first time a couple of kids came parking around here. _At least it would give Jack someone else to rant on later when the booze started wearing off and his anger reared its ugly head.

Sighing heavily she shut the light off again and crawled into bed. Might as well get a little sleep while she could. It was probably going to be a long night…and a very early morning.

* * *

They were sitting in the Impala watching the house they way they'd watched countless places before. The difference this time? They weren't waiting for signs of some vengeful spirit or supernatural being…no this time they were waiting for a different kind of monster to rear its ugly head.

"Looks like out boy Jack's alone tonight. You think maybe he was all talk back at the bar?" Dean was kind of hoping that maybe it was the case. It wasn't that he didn't want to help…just that they already had a hell of a lot to worry about right now.

"Yeah, he'd better _hope_ he was all talk. I swear Dean…one reason. He just has to give me _one reason_…" Sam was staring at the house, eyes wide, mouth gaping and then his hand was on the door handle and he was opening the car door. Unfolding his lanky frame and looking up towards the second story of the grungy little bungalow.

"Dude! What the hell are you doing… he'll _see_ you and call the cops…" and he never finished what he was going to say because Cal had put a hand on his arm and pointed a finger at what Sam was staring at.

"Oh _hell_ no!"

Turning away from the window just before the light went out was a woman with sad eyes and a face peppered with faded bruising. It was a face they knew well. One that had almost become family.

"Fran…" Sam's broken voice cut through the night, shooting straight to Dean's heart.

"Cal, the trunk. Holy water, rock salt, rope and my Dad's journal."

He didn't even look at her, just put the keys in her hands, trusting her to follow him with the things they would need. Then he was running across the freshly mowed grass, trying desperately to catch up with Sam's long legged stride before he got himself into more trouble than he could handle alone.

_

* * *

_

_Please review...and thanks for reading: )_


	8. Chapter 8

_**Chapter Eight**_

All this time… all those weeks… all those goddamned exorcisms all over the damned place and she'd been _here_. Twenty minutes drive from the freaking church _all this time!!_

But there wasn't time for that now, was there? Because that asshole, the one she'd told him had _hit _her when they'd been together, that… that _monster _had been with her all this time. Who the hell knew what he'd done to her in the past few weeks? She'd had bruises…fading bruises…but bruises clearly visible an entire yard away.

The door crashed open under the weight of his body, thrown against it so that the lock would give way. It came off its hinges and Sam really didn't care. He wanted his hands on that man: _Jack._

Dean was somewhere behind him, out of sight but Sam could still feel him there just a few steps behind him. Ready to back him up if he needed it.

"Dude's not in here Sam. Where the hell could he have gone?" His brothers voice coming from the living room. The sound of heavy footfall coming from above them. Sam's eyes flew up to the source of the sound.

"Upstairs Dean… dude's upstairs." And then they were both running up the stairs, taking them two and three at a time. They were making enough noise to wake the dead but they didn't care. Didn't matter how much warning the guy got, he was in for a world of hurt tonight. They were going to make sure of it.

Sam made it up to the top of the stairs first…just in time to see Jack open a door at the end of the hall and slip inside…and then that voice. "Jack?" Oh God, _that voice_.

He didn't know how he got there, but suddenly the door was at his feet instead of on its hinges and his fist was connecting with Jack's jaw. And then…and then he saw her. She had crawled up the bed, back pushed up against the headboard as if she could become a part of it. Terrified and shaking she looked from Jack on the floor to Sam towering above him.

Dean was hauling Jack up by his collar and dragging him over to a chair, roughing him up along the way. More footsteps…lighter ones now, racing up the stairs and then Cal was there too. Rope in hand. Salt, holy water and leather bound journal in hand. "I called your Dad… he's on his way."

But Sam wasn't paying attention to them anymore, he was focused on Fran. Something was wrong. She looked lost, confused, scared… something was _wrong_ because she wasn't asking him if they'd brought her shotgun, or a bat or _anything_ she could use to put a dent in the man who had put his hands on her and given her those bruises, that haunted look.

He remembered her eyes…dark and possessed under her pretty white veil. There was Dean's angry voice and the word 'Christo' but Fran's eyes stayed chocolate brown. Instead Jack's voice was an unearthly roar that filled the room. "Damned _Winchesters_!! Katie you tell them to _leave…_tell them to leave _now_ or _so help me_ I will make you wish you'd _never been born_!"

There were tears streaming down Fran's face as the words came from her lips. All _Yes Jack _and _Of course Jack _and _Please don't hurt them, please_ before she turned to Sam and begged, _begged _him to just _leave_. Cal and Dean were staring at her in disbelief and Sam…well Sam didn't know what the hell to do.

"Franny…god, sweetheart. It's okay… we're here to help you. To bring you home."

"But…my name is _Kate_." And now she was confused because that was the second person in the last few weeks to call her by that name she didn't know…and it wasn't her because she _knew _her own _name _for Christ's sake.

"No…no it's Francine honey. Don't you…do you know who we are?"

Did she know…? God, she knew he was _Sam_. That man she'd dreamed up to help her get through this hell that was her life. But Sam wasn't real, he was a _daydream._ What the hell was going on?

"You…you're Sam. I…I _dream _you. You're not _real. _You can't _be_ here."

Yeah, something was definitely wrong. Completely and totally screwed up. Because Fran, who should have been his _wife_…the woman who knew him better than his own brother did...She was standing in front of him scared as all hell because _she thought he_ _wasn't real_.

He took her face in his hands and gently brushed fingers through tear tracks over green and purple tinged cheeks and made her look at him. "Don't cry. I _am _here. You're safe." Sam needed her to hear the words, even if she didn't believe them…and he could tell she really didn't. There would be time enough to make it better. Right now he had some serious business to take care of with this _Jack _guy and his little demon friend.

"Cal?" He tossed the keys to the Impala at her and watched as she caught them. "Get her out of here, take her home. Stay with her 'till we get back. I don't want her to see this."

"Sure thing Sam." And Cal had an arm around Fran's shaking shoulders, wings curving protectively around them and ushering her towards the door. Dean stopped her just before they stepped out and kissed Cal lightly. "Be safe, okay?"

"I could say the same to you Winchester. Better come back in one piece or you'll have _me_ to deal with, go it?"

"Yes ma'am." He smiled and watched the two women start down the stairs.

Sam waited…watched through the window as Cal led Fran across the yard and tucked her into the passenger seat of the Impala. Listened to the thing behind him rant and roar its anger as he watched the beast of a car come to life and roll away. Waited as the knowledge settled itself in his chest, in his heart that _finally _they'd found her and Fran was _safe_. A little broken, but _safe_. Only then did he turn around and face the man, the demon who had done this and when he did, those ink black eyes met his head on.

"You'll _pay_ for this Winchester" it angrily declared, the words designed to generate fear accomplishing nothing but to fuel the fire of anger that burned through Sam's veins.

"No." Sam voice gone deep and dark, snarling out the words that echoed through his entire being. "No. You're fun's over. I'm going to _personally _exorcise your ass right back to hell."

Dean was handing him the journal and dousing the guy in holy water. When Jack screamed Dean just smacked him upside the head and told him to shut the hell up. "No one asked your opinion dude."

Five minutes. It took no more than five minutes to speak the latin and make the dark cloud that was the demon come streaming out of Jack's body. As soon as the cloud dissipated Sam had his hands on Jack, who was still tied down to the chair.

"Dude, you shouldn't've done that. Should've just left the girl an' me alone. It'll be back for her. She's got something it wants."

"The hell it will. We sent it back to hell Jack. Better start thinking about that 'cause I have _no doubt_ you'll be joining it someday." And Sam smashed a fist into Jacks face on principle alone.

"Sammy! Goddamn it, _what the hell_?" Dean was worried. This violence thing? That was _his_ gig… Sam was the one who saved his fists for defense. Preferred to take the first punch _and then _wail on the guy.

"Did you _see _her _face _Dean?"

"Yeah, I _did_ Sam. But the guy was possessed… how do we know it wasn't the demon that did that?" Dean could have laughed at this complete role reversal. Would have if this wasn't so damned _serious_. 'Course, that idiot Jack picked just that moment to open his mouth again.

"Is _that _what this is about? Her _face?_ Yeah man, _I _did that. That and a _whole lot_ more. The woman needed to learn her place in the world."

"You goddamn _sonofabitch_!" There was a satisfying _crack _as Sam's fist connected with Jack's face again.

"Dude, you're going to _regret_ that. Go ahead and do your worst. Nothing's gonna change the fact that _Kate _is _mine_ now. I made a deal, see? When that yellow-eyed chic comes back I'll tell her what happened and then it'll be _your _asses getting whooped."

Sam's fist was in the air again, ready to strike the blow that would shut Jack up but Dean's hand stopped his arm from moving.

"Wait. Did you say _yellow-eyed_ chic? What the hell kind of deal did you make Jack?"

"Simple. I keep the girl fed and healthy for a few months until she gives up what the chic wants from her, and then Franny's mine to do with what I please."

The wheels were turning in Dean's head…a few months huh? "How many months?" It wasn't a question, it was an order to answer.

"Eight." A slimy sneer from the man tied down to the chair. Sam wasn't getting it though. His mind was still stuck on making the guy pay for even _thinking _about hitting his Fran. Dean though? Yeah, Dean got it loud and clear.

"Are you telling me…so you're saying the deal you made was to keep Fran here until she…"

"Yeah, until she has that damned baby. Pain in the ass that it is, it's worth the wait to give her what she _really _deserves."

"Wait… Dean?" Sam had turned his attention from Jack to his brother with a confused little frown. "Is he saying what I _think_ he's saying?"

Dean had _no idea_ what to say. "I, uh… I think he's saying you're going to be a dad Sam."

And at that exact moment the whole world came crashing down around him. All that anger that had been boiling in his veins finally boiled _over _so that he couldn't hold it anymore. "DO YOU MEAN TO TELL ME THAT YOU _HIT HER_ GAVE HER ALL THOSE BRUISES _KNOWING SHE WAS PREGNANT?!?" _

"'Course I did. The damn things not _mine _is it? _She had it coming_."

Dean had just enough time to think to himself that Sam couldn't have been any scarier if he'd been _possessed_. Then Sam was untying the asshole and it was all Dean could do to try and stop him. "Dude, what're you _doing?_"

"I'm about to beat the _living hell _out of the guy Dean…I'm making it a fair fight."

There was no arguing the logic here. Sam was doing this, nothing was going to stop him. And Dean? Well, in the same situation he was pretty sure he'd feel the exact same way. Only difference would be that he probably wouldn't have even bothered untying the lowlife.

A half hour later, when the cops came barging through the front door Sam had earned more than a few cuts and bruises but Jack was definitely worse for wear. Thank God for small towns because the first officer on the scene was one of Franny's regulars at Chez Henry's. One look from Sam to Jack and he didn't even need to be told what had happened. "Where is she?" He'd asked.

"Cal took her home." Sam answered through a split lip.

"Go on and join her then. I've got this."

Dean patted a uniformed shoulder as he followed Sam out the door. "Thanks man."

"Don't mention it. I've been looking for a reason to haul this guy in ever since the first time he laid a hand on her. Fran just beat me to him last time."

They found their father waiting in the kitchen for them when they came down the stairs. Hadn't even heard him come in. "You, uh, been here long Dad?" Sam asked him, eyeing him wearily.

"Long enough. He still alive?"

"Yeah, unfortunately."

"Good. We're heading back, meeting Cal at the farmhouse. We've got our work cut out for us if we're going to protect those two from the demon."

Dean nodded and turned to leave. Sam went to follow but was stopped by his father's hand on his shoulder.

"Sam... we'll keep them safe. Both of them. Okay?"

"Yeah Dad." Sam ducked his head and turned to go, hiding the fear behind a mop of shaggy brown hair. "We will."

* * *

_Thanks for reading, please review : )_


	9. Chapter 9

_**Chapter Nine**_

They were going to have to hit the road again. Couldn't risk losing the cover of the farmhouse or the bar by staying. Not when they knew the demon was coming, coming for _the baby_…and _damn_ Dean just couldn't get used to that one. He could only imagine what was going through _Sam_'s head right now. Sam who'd always just wanted a taste of normal. The kid wasn't even born yet and they knew it was going to have some sort of power…would have to for that yellow-eyed freak to come after them. Dealing with that alone was enough to screw him up for a good long while…and then there was Franny, or Kate…or whatever the hell she thought her name was right now. Dean just couldn't figure out how the hell Sam was managing to keep it together at all.

Their dad had taken up his position on the front porch for the night. Said he needed them sharp for what was coming. Bobby had taken the back and Jim sat up in the kitchen all night.

Cal…well she slept like the dead. (and how stupid was that saying anyway? None of the dead _he'd _ever met slept well, hell he didn't think they slept _at all_) She _would_ sleep soundly too, wouldn't she? After all the trouble she'd stirred up. That little wild goose chase she'd sent him on, looking for her had thoroughly worn him out. 'Course it wasn't like he could stay mad at her for it or anything… they _had _found Franny after all. All in all she'd been pretty pleased with herself actually, which only meant that he was never going to hear the end of it. Ever.

Ah well, couldn't win 'em all, could he? He was just glad that she'd been pleased with _him_ too for making sure that '_Jack_ass' got picked up and tossed into a little five by five cell indefinitely…and if the dude happened to have a couple of broken bones and a whole lot of bruises well all the better. There was just no excuse for what he'd done to their Fran. Yup, he couldn't win 'em all… but he'd take the ones he could.

So why was it that he was sleeping on the couch right now? Well because Cal had spread herself out over the bed, wings stretched out so that the entire damned thing was covered. Sure, she _looked _like an angel. Unfortunately that was exactly why he couldn't muster up the heart to wake her up and move her the hell over. Well, anyway… he was cool with it for now. This way he could sleep with one eye open and hear Sammy if he needed anything for Fran.

Plus… Cal had this habit of waking up at the break of dawn now…and making the most _amazing _breakfasts. Sleeping on the couch would give him first crack at it. After a week of pissed off Cal and none of that awesome food she could now cook… yeah, one uncomfortable night on the couch? Not such a big deal.

* * *

Sam was ecstatic. So goddamned happy he was bursting at the seams, felt like he was going to flat out explode from it. She was _back_. Nothing else mattered right now. She was back and he wasn't going to let her out of his sight…which was why he was sitting in a chair pushed up against the side of the bed, holding her hand as she slept. By choice he would have preferred to curl up in the bed with her safely tucked in against him. By the time they'd come back though she'd already fallen asleep and he didn't know how she'd react to waking up in his arms. No way to tell considering the number that demon had done on her memory.

Cal had played twenty questions with her in the Impala, trying hard just to get a grasp on her friend. To find a little part of the woman they all knew in the quiet, scared one they'd found. What she'd found instead had been a bit of a shock.

Fran believed her name to be Katherine O'Hara. It was a pseudonym…her favorite one that she liked to use when they were hunting. The name had popped up on their first hunt after the tulpa incident and had stuck ever since.

They'd been on the road for two days straight, headed for New Orleans and a possible zombie issue at a college campus. The four of them in the Impala driving for two days straight…and it was no wonder the girls got a little bored in the backseat. Especially since Dean had put a stop to their reaching over the seat and channel surfing the radio. (hehe, of course _he'd _thought that Christian rock music station they'd found had been absolutely hilarious…but Dean had obviously had a different opinion on that one.)

Fran had been reading contentedly, curled up on the seat behind him... a biography on Katherine Hepburn's life or something. Cal had teased her a little bit… and then started asking questions. The thing about Fran? Well that overactive imagination of hers made her an amazing story teller. He found out that day that Katherine Hepburn had been one of her role models growing up.

Well, they'd _all _been surprised when about an hour into the conversation Dean piped his two cents in…even more so when those two cents hadn't been smart-assed or sarcastic. He'd compared Kate Hepburn to Scarlett O'Hara because of her strength and determination when life played hardball. Who the hell knew that Dean even had a _clue _who Scarlett O'Hara was? Gone With the Wind was about as chick flick as you could get and well Dean? Yeah, he just didn't _do _chick flicks. Period.

"Thing about women Sammy, they're suckers for a good romantic movie. _I _might not be a fan of all that chic-flick crap, but I _am _a big fan of getting laid. That movie? Yeah, a big winner in the 'trying to get laid' department man. _Big _winner."

Cal hadn't been too impressed with him…even after the cursory "y'know…I uh, mean… back in the day of course…" Fran had got such a kick out of it that when Dean had gone out to doctor her fake student ID card to get her on campus so she could tail the guy they suspected had created the zombies she didn't hesitate.

"You got one in mind, or will any old name do?"

"Dean, I've got the _perfect_ name. Make it Katherine O'Hara."

If looks could kill… well Sam was just really glad they didn't. Dean had, of course, been thoroughly unimpressed and thanks to Cal the name had stuck. Fran's false identity of choice. Now, apparently, the one she thought was her real identity.

Cal hadn't been able to get much out of her. Fran didn't remember much past three weeks ago. Her memory picked up just after her disappearance apparently. As for her past, well she wouldn't say much about what she remembered about that either. What she _had_ talked about made Sam's blood run hot with murderous rage again, even just heard third hand from Cal.

The demon had warped her memory. Fran and Jack had been an item more than a few years back.

She'd been eighteen, and Jack twenty. They'd moved in together during her second year of university… and that's when he got abusive. The first time he hit her, it was one hell of a surprise. Apparently he was a mean drunk. Fran being Fran though…she gave him a second chance. Just one. He had one shot to get his act together and stop drinking if he wanted her to stay in his life. Unfortunately she lived to regret it.

A week after the first time, he came home sloshed out of his mind. The night had ended with Franny in the local emergency room.

Fran had told him the story once, when he'd come across that picture. The one she kept to remind herself. She left the university right after that _and_ that sonofabitch Jack. Went home to her family and took over Chez Henry, the family restaurant. She finished the rest of her courses by correspondence and lived her life in fear because even though she'd left him…Jack kept popping up all over the place. Then one day he got bold. Left her a note…broke into her apartment above the bar and left it dead center of her bed. 'Come home, or I'll make you wish you'd never been born.'

Franny? Well, she went back alright. Just once, after talking to a couple of the local boys who just happened to be cops. Oh she went back alright…with her shotgun. When the police showed up on the scene they found Jack cowering in a corner. One thing Fran did well? Instilling the fear of God in people. She pressed charges and he went to jail for battery and domestic violence.

Thing about that was, that just wasn't the way 'Kate' remembered it. 'Kate' believed that she went back to him because if she hadn't he'd have killed her. Believed that there had been no other way. Fran was the type of woman who found hope in the most hopeless of situations. She believed that strength and determination were what got you out of bad situations…and the occasional sawed-off shotgun or baseball bat didn't hurt either.

That damned yellow-eyed demon, and _Jack _had shown Fran, his Fran, just exactly what hopeless was. Now it was up to Sam to remind her who she really was. Something told him that once she did Jack was the one who was going to wish he'd never been born.

Until then though he was going to take care of her, this 'Kate', broken shell of the person she once was. He'd love her and keep her safe until she was herself again. Her…and their child…and good god it hit him hard, and not for the first time that night either. She was…He was…They were going to be parents… and she had _no idea_. That last part being the only part of all of this twisted mess they were stuck in that he just couldn't wrap his head around.

She was pregnant… close to two months along as far as they'd been able to figure…and completely oblivious to the fact that she was. He just hoped that he could reach 'Fran' inside of 'Kate' before she realized what her body must have been trying to tell her for weeks now.

Sometime during the night his eyes drifted closed as his body forced him to get some of the sleep he'd been denying himself for so long now. He could afford to now. Fran was finally home…safe.

* * *

When she woke she didn't know where the heck she was. Her first clue that she wasn't where she was supposed to be came before she even opened her eyes. Warm sunlight kissed her face and the scent of something delicious and breakfast-like hung comfortingly in the air. She was afraid to open her eyes and find out that it was just another dream. So instead she lay still, let her skin soak in the sunlight and squeezed her eyes tightly shut. Holding on to the dream as long as she could before Jack came to get her so she could make him breakfast.

Her first clue that maybe…just maybe it wasn't a dream after all? Well it came in the form of a rumbling snore, just one, somewhere to her left. First off…Jack never snored…and second? Jack never, ever slept with her. She cooked and cleaned for him. That was pretty much it. He'd lost interest in her 'that way' a long time ago and she'd been grateful for it ever since. So this loud, decidedly male snoring? Well she didn't know who the heck it could be.

It took every ounce of courage she had to crack open the one eyelid, just wide enough to see where the sound was coming from. She almost didn't recognize him when she did.

Sam. Her Sam. There was no mistaking the face, even through the dark shaggy beard that covered the lower half of his face now. Her Sam, folded over himself in a chair, head resting beside her on the bed and holding her hands in his as he slept.

She couldn't help opening her eyes all the way. Had to look at him, take every last inch of him in before he disappeared again. Except that this time he wasn't going to disappear. Because apparently this time he was _real_. His shaggy mane of dark hair had gone messy and wild and there were little cuts and bruises on his face and hands. He'd been in a fight recently, she wondered what kind of shape the other guy was in.

The scruff suited him she decided. It made him look a little rough, which he really was. It looked so soft that all she wanted to do was reach out and touch it. Run her fingers over his cheek and his beard to convince herself that yeah…she wasn't dreaming anymore.

Before she knew it her fingers were moving of their own volition, lightly tracing the line of familiar jaw and reveling in the silky soft feel of that beard. He smiled, still sleeping he smiled and turned his face toward the palm of her hand. Tender brush of soft, moist lips in on the callused skin of her palm and all she could do was gasp. It felt good. It felt right. It made her smile. Smiling hadn't come easy in a long time. She didn't know what to think about that.

She heard the soft footfall of socks on carpet stop just outside the door to the room they were in and for just a moment held her breath. A very large part of her still expected Jack to come barging in demanding breakfast and roughly shoving her around. She didn't need to see a face to know it wasn't him. Whoever it was took the time to slowly and quietly open the door, obviously not wanting to wake them up.

His face was familiar too. The man from the bar in her dream, the one who had come barging into her room on Sam's heels. '_I should know this guy'_ she thought to herself. '_I should know his name...I know his face, and I ought to know his name…but I don't'_ It was right there, on the tip of her tongue but she couldn't hold on to it.

The smile he gave her when she met his eyes was almost as familiar as Sam's.

"Hey." He'd whispered from the doorway, sleep roughened voice drifting across the room.

"Hey." Her reply soft and hesitant in contrast.

"Hungry?" he'd asked, apparently hell bent on using no more than one word communications.

She just nodded, so he tilted his head. An obvious command for her to follow him wherever he'd been heading.

It took a minute, uncurling her hand from Sam's and crawling out of bed without waking him was tougher than it looked. When she finally joined the man in the doorway she looked back at Sam and felt bad. "Shouldn't we shift him into the bed? He looks so…uncomfortable." Uncomfortable being the nicest way she could think of to say 'twisted like a pretzel'.

"Nah. If we move him he'll wake up. Let's let him sleep, he hasn't done much of that lately."

"Okay."

She stood in the doorway a minute longer, watching Sam sleep and letting the man next to her watch her do it. "Do you, uh…remember anything?"

"Only him." Her eyes never left their target.

"You need to eat." He'd countered gruffly. "Come on down to the kitchen. Cal's cooking and thanks to those new wings of hers it's not coming out toxic waste."

"Thanks…"

"Dean. My name's Dean."

"Thanks Dean."

"No thanks necessary. I _would_ like to see you eat a nice square meal though. I _swear _kiddo, you look like you haven't eaten in weeks. Lets get some meat on those bones shall we?"

Whether it was the funny eye waggle, the cocky grin or the major bed head that made him look like he was five and getting into mischief she just didn't know. The sound of her affectionate laughter surprised them both. The cocky grin turned into a wide, knowing smile. He wrapped an arm around her shoulders and guided her towards the stairs. "Music to my ears kiddo, music to my ears. You're gonna be just fine."

* * *

It was just amazing, how a kitchen so big could feel so small. Cal had a theory about that though. There wasn't a room big enough on the planet that could fit four seasoned hunters and a woman with wings comfortably.

It was still pretty weird, looking down at her own hands and seeing them cook like that. None of their usual awkwardness involved…none of the usual smoke and charred food either. It was French toast this morning…with ham…and she'd made up a fruit salad too, because she knew Franny liked that stuff. There was a bowl of it big enough to feed a small army sitting dead center on the table…which was fitting really because they _were_ a small army.

John and Bobby sat side by side pouring over a huge book, quietly debating the merits of protective spells and charms over more potent spells. Funny really watching those two big, burly men studying these things like college kids working towards finals. The pastor Jim was tall and lanky in contrast. Instead of sitting at the table he was standing by the window, watching the drive and the dirt road beyond it. Cal couldn't hear what he was whispering to himself but she read lips well enough to be able to make out latin when she saw it. He'd started with the Ciace Nostru, Lord's prayer and was just now finishing the Sora Maria. Somehow she didn't think that prayer would do much for them in the face of this yellow eyed demon they'd told her about, but she wasn't about to tell the pastor that.

Dean had just come in the room and was just heaping food onto not one, but two plates. "Hey! I know you've been wanting to taste my cooking all week but I mean come on…_nobody_ can eat that much in one sitting. Not even you." She teased him.

"I hate to disappoint you sweetheart but I'm not eating it all in one sitting…I'm gonna stash some of it away in case you get pissed off again." He just barely ducked out of the way of the oven mitt that came flying at him, as he laughed.

"They still sleeping?" John asked him, finally looking up from the book he and Bobby had open between them.

"Sam is. Thank God. Three weeks and I don't think he got more than eight hours the whole time. Fran's cleaning herself up." Then leaning in behind Cal, trying to avoid her wings with a full plate of food in each hand he kissed the side of her neck. "Hope you don't mind but I lent her some of your clothes."

"'Course not. Sam said something about taking her home this morning. He's got to give Amy a call so she can take care of the restaurant and Fran'll have to pack. God only knows how long we'll be on the road this time."

"You can't come with us Dean."

Oh, so Sam was up after all.

"The hell we can't. I'd like to see you try and stop us."

Sam just crossed long arms across wide chest.

"What about Cal?"

"Coming too."

"Dude, she's got _wings_. When exactly were you planning to track down that fae? While we're driving from one end of the continent to the other?"

"The thought had occurred to me, yeah…and dude, who says I want to get rid of her wings just yet. Have you tasted her cooking lately?"

"_So_ not funny dude. You want I should cut you off again?" Cal glared at him. Sam just stared him down. Damn, he hated when his brother was right. Didn't mean he wasn't going to fight it though.

"No! No _way _I'm staying behind. Damn it Sam, this isn't just an average salt and burn kind of gig. We're talking about _the demon_ here."

"He's right Dean. If you're gonna come along I need everybody sharp. We need to stay under the radar on this one until the damned thing makes its next move. I hate to say it but there's just no way we can do that with those wings in the mix."

"So what, we just stay here? No. That's just not gonna happen."

"Well that's just too bad Dean, because that's exactly what's going to happen. Bobby's going to hang back with you and Cal to give you a hand with the fae. Sam, Jim and I are going to take Fran back to Jim's and wait it out. Hopefully the hallowed ground of the church will give us an advantage. I don't want you coming to join us until those wings are gone. We can't have strangers showing up at all hours of the day at night, it's just too dangerous given…well everything."

Okay, so he was right about the wings. They really couldn't afford to have people come crawling to the front door at all hours of the day and night because of the damned things. Still…there had to be _something _they could do to dull the effects, maybe block it completely until this demon business could be taken care of…and he was about to get vocal about it too, except that Fran chose that exact moment to walk into the room.

One look at Sam and both he and Fran were smiling widely. "You're awake." She said simply. He just nodded, speechless. Dean handed her the other plate with a gruff command to 'sit and eat up' because he really was worried about her weight loss. John muttered something that sounded like 'we'll talk about this later Dean' and just like that it was dropped in favor of breakfast.

Well, looked like he and Cal were going to have to haul ass on this little fairy problem of theirs 'cause there was _no way_ he was going to let Sam and their Dad face the damned demon without him.

* * *

_Thanks for reading, Please review : )_


	10. Chapter 10

_**Chapter Ten**_

Cal was really starting to hate fairies…or fae…or whatever the hell it was that gave her those damned wings. It's hard enough to build yourself the image of 'tough' being a girl. Even when you just naturally _are _tough, and Cal really was. To maintain that image with a bit pair of white fluffy wings and a Martha Stewart cooking, cleaning and sewing complex? Well she may as well just change her name to Barbie and buy herself a freaking pink mansion and matching little corvette. It was about as close to emasculation you could get without testosterone.

To say that Cal was irritated was definitely an understatement.

Dean was annoyed, mostly because there were going to have to hang back and hunt down the fairy instead of going with Sam to protect Fran. An argument with the same force of a nuclear explosion erupted in the middle of the kitchen as soon as John, Sam and Fran had left for the bar.

He'd wanted to sneak away and follow them to Jim's. She'd wanted to stay and do something about this problem of hers.

"John and Sam make on hell of a good point Dean. No way we can hide Fran and the baby with strange dudes showing up wherever I go because of these damned feathers. Any one of them could end up possessed, and what better way in is there for the yellow eyed freak?"

"Dammit Cal, you haven't seen what this thing can do! My mom…and hell, you _know_ what happened to Jess. God, it damn near killed Sam to loose her. Now there's Fran, who has absolutely _no idea_ who she is and a kid in the mix to boot. _Sam's_ kid. I can't just sit back and watch them leave!" Honestly? He was shocked. Cal was usually the only one on his side when he decided to go against what was logical and force his hand to get things done.

"Dude, I'm a freaking beacon here. You might as well stick me up on the roof of Jim's place like some weird ass weather vane and ask me to shout 'here we are, come and get us' at the top of my lungs. We've got to find a way to loose the wings if we're going to be any kind of help here." And okay, she had a point. He didn't like it though. All his life family had come first, before anything else. Sammy was first, their Dad was first…before Dean even thought of himself it was his father and brother. Now there was Cal it was _hard_…so damned hard to choose. Even harder that the choice wasn't there, that it had been made for him. So Dean reacted the only way he possibly could: he got angry and lashed out.

"What the hell were you thinking anyway? If you hadn't gone out and done a stupid thing like an exorcism – and _alone_ no less - then we wouldn't be in this mess right now. Keeping Fran safe would be our _only _problem."

And there it was, right there. Dean blamed her for this, and that? Well it stung. Hurt like hell actually. Burned through the blood in her veins and made her heart want to explode and damned if she couldn't blame it on the wings this time either.

"Well that's great. Real great Dean. Nice to know exactly how it is you feel about this." There were tears welling up in her eyes, but she was far too stubborn to let even just the one fall. Dean was opening his mouth, regret right there in plain sight etched across every last inch of him. She wasn't having any of it though. Hand up, palm out she pinned him with a warning look.

"Don't. Just don't, alright Winchester? Yeah, I'll be the first to admit it. Agree with you even. That exorcism? Not one of my brightest moves. God only knows I've had plenty of time and reasons to regret it over the last eight days and there is _no way _I'm ever making that mistake again. Unfortunately regret isn't enough is it? Neither is 'I'm sorry'…and yeah, I really am Dean. I _really am_. It's not enough though because what's done is done and now the mess has to be cleaned up." Blue eyes flashed from behind the sheen of unshed tears.

He knew her well enough by now to know that opening his mouth now, no matter what he said, would only make things worse. Instead he took a step towards her, fully intending to wrap his arms around her and make her see exactly how sorry he was for having hurt her like that.

"No."

She stopped him with just one word.

"No. Not this time. You don't get to do that this time."

"Jesus Cal… just…let me…" Another step closer and he stopped, knowing she'd never let him near her now. Last time she'd been anywhere near this upset they'd been chasing after that vamp Earl and she'd stormed out of the motel room with all her stuff. He didn't want her to run off again. Had enough of that to last a lifetime.

"Let you _what_ Dean? Try to kiss it away? Try to make the words go away? No. You're right. I know what this is. John and Sam? They've always been number one, and that's _exactly_ as it _should_ be. I've always known that, always seen it, always been okay with it. This demon's been 'the hunt' your whole life. I've been there Dean. Watched my Dad die in my own little war. So no, you don't get to make this one go away. Go pack your stuff. You're heading out with them when they get back. You belong with them on this one, not dealing with my little fairy problem."

It hurt to see that pride creep up her spine, to watch her square her shoulders like that. It hurt to see those walls go up again, a protective measure to hide the hurt from him. Her words rang true, but there were others there…hiding behind that wall of hers instead of being said. She was locking away the hurt and pushing him out the door and somehow… somehow that was _so much worse_ than Cal running off on him again.

"Cal…" he whispered, trying one last time "I'm not going to just _leave_…"

"Yeah Dean. Yeah, you are. If you don't go you'll always wonder. Why the hell do you think I took off on you that last time, right after we killed Earl? I won't be the reason behind that. I won't be the one to stand between you and your family. Not knowing what they mean to you like I do. Bobby and I, we'll take care of this pain in the ass fairy of mine. You've got something to finish. A demon to kill. You're gonna go with them and do it. I'm just gonna tell you once: don't come back here until it's done."

And with that she was out the door, wanting nothing more than a little space and someplace private where she could let the tears fall unseen by anyone but herself.

So yeah, that _fae_ thing or whatever the hell it was? It was in for one hell of a beating when Cal finally caught up with it.

* * *

They'd thought that Chez Henry might jog some kind of memory for Fran. That log cabin was as much a part of her as she was of it. Sam watched her carefully as they drove in. She looked confused…and there was none of the usual warmth that was usually there when it came to her pride and joy. There was no helping it, his heart sank just a little at the thought that she couldn't remember something she loved so much.

"You…uh….you want to come in for a minute? I've got to give Amy a call so she knows she's in charge while we're gone and her number's in the office."

It was a hesitant offer on his part, and he wasn't entirely sure she'd take him up on it. Actually she looked liked she wanted to turn around and run away, just as far and fast as she could. Then her eyes met his and he saw the calm settle in. Her answer surprised him.

"Yeah, actually. If you don't mind my tagging along?"

She might not recognize the place…but something about it was calling to her.

"Really? You're sure?" His father gave him a warning look. One that said 'tread carefully son'. Sam already knew that. Fran was fragile and he wasn't going to push her into something she wasn't ready for.

"Yeah. I mean… I think so. If that's okay?" She was still looking for his approval, something he was having a really hard time getting used to…but beneath that…her eyes told him that she really did want this. That alone was enough for him.

"Absolutely. The girls'll probably already be here setting up for lunch." He wanted her prepared for more strange faces. She'd been jumpy all morning with the farm house being so full, all those people made her a little nervous. Like she didn't know what to expect…or what was expected of her.

The flash of uncertainty in her eyes in here eyes was unmistakable, but she still seemed to want to go in.

"Henry's isn't open yet so it should just be Erin and Beth." Maybe all she needed was a little reassurance?

She said nothing, but turned back towards the building. He followed her to the door. Apparently she'd made up her mind and was okay with it.

Reaching out to him as they stepped through, she slipped a small, cold hand inside his large warm one. Sam gave it a light squeeze and leaned in a little to whisper in her ear. "Just tell me if it gets to be too much and we'll head upstairs, okay?"

A small nod, and he was pretty sure she was going to be okay. Of course she would. She was home. Anything else he'd deal with personally.

As it turned out neither Erin or Beth had arrived yet. The place was empty and quiet, the way he'd dreaded finding it for weeks now. For once Sam was thankful for the silence.

"I… I've seen this place before. I dreamed this place." Fran said, her voice soft and surprised.

"I'm not surprised. You've put an awful lot of love and time into the place. The sign out front might say Chez Henry, but everyone around here calls it 'Fran's Place'"

That name. Fran. It still got to her. Didn't feel right. Wasn't really her.

"Could you…maybe not call me that?" and yeah, she really hoped he understood. Sam was her lifeline right now and she really didn't think she could handle him being upset with her…or because of her for that matter. Everyone seemed so convinced that she was this Fran woman… even her Sam. With everything else… and those damned nerves that were still turning her stomach. She just needed to know she was right about her own name, if nothing else.

The question took him by surprise, that much was obvious. But he took it all in stride. Turning her towards him when she would have turned away he took her face in his hands and gently stroked her cheek with a big callused thumb.

"What would you like me to call you sweetheart?"

"Kate." She said, because right now she needed to believe, needed to know that if nothing else her name was still the same.

"Okay." He smiled warmly, because really? The name was nothing and _she_ was _everything_. So if being called Kate made her feel a little more secure then that's what he'd call her…he'd give her whatever else she needed to get through this.

"Kate it is." And he kissed her forehead lightly.

She leaned into him then, and rested her head on his broad chest. Felt that safe feeling come back again as big, strong arms wrapped around her and whispered a 'thank you' into his shirt.

"Anything Kate. You don't have to thank me. Anything you need and it's yours."

"I remember this place Sam…a little. I remember serving you three beer…and Dean and that woman with the wings, Cal? They were playing pool. There was a fight, and for some reason I wasn't surprised. I _was_ sad to see you go though. Cal… she threw this huge guy into the mirror back there…"

Sam smiled a little wider. "Yeah, our Cal's a bit of a scrapper."

Fran – no _Kate_ he corrected himself – pulled back and took a few steps toward the bar.

"You want to look around a bit while I go make that call? The office is that door just next to the bar. I'll leave it open so you can come join me if you want to…"

"Yeah…I, ah…I think I'd like that."

It was hard to get used to, being asked what she wanted for a change. It was hard to get used to…but just like Sam it felt familiar. That, she decided, had to be a good thing because everything to do with Sam so far had been good and safe.

* * *

A little later, while Jim and John sat downstairs in the bar waiting and watching out for trouble Sam and Kate made their way up to their apartment.

It didn't take long to pack up the things they'd need. Kate seemed to know where things were, as long as she wasn't thinking about it too hard. I freaked her out a little, but she seemed to be taking it all in stride.

Maybe it was being home, maybe it was having Sam so close and familiar but something just felt right about being there. Fifteen minutes of puttering around the bedroom and taking her time packing their clothes for the road and somehow she'd managed to forget that there was ever a time she hadn't been there with him.

"Hey Sam?" she called from the closet. "Where'd you put that sweater of yours, you know…the grey one with the zipper and the hood?" The one and only thing he never left behind when they were on the road. "I could swear I hung it right here…"

and at that very moment she was Fran again. Sam just sat on the couch, stunned and speechless at the sudden change.

Bag of weaponry, rock salt rounds and religious paraphernalia open on the coffee table in front of him and a pair of wicked looking, ornate curved blades in hand. He couldn't move. Didn't want to.

"Sam?" She called out again, a little concerned and a little annoyed that he wasn't answering her. Sounding for all the world like the woman who'd chased him and Dean out of her bar with a sawed off shotgun for asking too many questions about Cal so long ago.

He couldn't help it then, had to go to her. He carefully set the blades down and his feet were moving before he even knew what he was doing.

She was kneeling in front of the dresser, digging through an overstuffed drawer and grumbling to herself about sasquatches not being able to put clean laundry where it belonged. "Oh, there you are. Thought maybe you'd gone down to let the girls in or something. I think you finally managed to loose that sweater of yours, can't find it anywhere."

"It's…it's, um, up in the loft of the barn at Cal's."

Fran froze as if realizing she wasn't supposed to know about the sweater, but wasn't really sure why.

"What's it doing there?" she asked cautiously, as if unsure she wanted to hear the answer.

"I've… I've been spending most of my time there…since you… since you went missing."

That was the first time since that name, that Fran name, started popping that Kate realized that maybe…maybe there was something to this name thing. Maybe these folks were right. Maybe there really was something wrong with her memory.

"Sam?" She was suddenly feeling very small, very vulnerable and yeah…just a little overwhelmed.

"I think I need to...I think I need to go. Are we almost done up here?"

"Yeah Kate. We'll head back to the farmhouse in a few minutes. You okay?"

and honestly? She couldn't answer that question…because she had absolutely no idea whether she was or not.

* * *

Dean was just packing up the last of his stuff and zipping up his worn out old army surplus duffle bag when Bobby coughed from the doorway.

"They back yet?" He asked, not bothering to look up from what he was doing.

"Yeah. Cal's down there too. She just filled them in on the change in plans. Your Dad thinks it'd be a good idea for Sam and his girl to ride in the Impala with you. He and Jim'll follow you in his truck."

"Makes sense. She seems more comfortable in the Impala then in the truck. Spent a lot of time in it too, back in New York when she and Sam got close. Maybe it'll help jog her memory some, help her remember."

"That's the plan anyway." Bobby confirmed.

Dean took a deep breath then, turning to face the man in the doorway knowing that he couldn't hide what he was feeling. "Do me a favor man? Tell 'em I'll be down in a minute. I'm, ah…I need a sec to finish packing up."

Bobby just looked him over long and hard.

"You sure about this boy? You're just gonna let that little girl down there tell you what to do? 'Cause I can tell just from lookin' at you that this isn't what you want."

"If I _don't _go…look, I'd rather she take your help and send me away then wake up in the morning and find her gone to take care of this thing alone."

"Dean…you don't really think she'd do that, do you?"

"I _know _she would. Hell man, _you _know she would."

"Alright then, it's your choice. Can't tell a grown man what to do now can I?"

Dean hung his head and listened to Bobby's footsteps retreating back down the hallway. Lifted it again, slowly, when he was sure he was alone again. Slowly turned around and took in the room one last time. Her room. _Their_ room.

Couldn't help but wonder when this had happened, this thing that's between them. How did he come to be so attached to her, care so much for her that just the sight of the bottle of her hand cream on the dresser and the knowledge he was leaving could get him choked up?

That little red ribbon of hers lay at his feet on the floor where she'd tossed it the night before. With a sigh he bent down and picked it up. Was going to toss it into the wash basket she kept in the corner next to the dresser…but when it came time to let it go his hand just…wouldn't. Instead he found himself walking back over to his bags and tucking it away into an empty pocket. _For her own good. _He thought to himself. The thought of her going out in that thing again…even with Bobby along for the ride to protect her…yeah, it wasn't a happy thought.

So this taking the ribbon along with him? Had absolutely nothing to do with how much he _already _missed her. Dean just didn't do stuff like that. He was definitely not taking it with him just to have a little something of hers he could keep close to him. Hell no.

Sam though…well _he_ might not see it that way. Had a habit of taking things like that out of context, especially when it came to Dean and that emotional crap. So he'd just keep the ribbon to himself. A little secret he'd share with that pocket of the duffel bag.

He had one bag over a shoulder and the other in hand when the truck horn echoed loudly through the yard. Apparently his minute was up. Weird not to hear Cal yelling up to him to get his ass moving so they could hit the road. Weird to know he was leaving and she was staying.

She was standing in the kitchen, talking quietly with Sam when he finally came down. Stopping at the foot of the stairs he looked right at her, all too aware that she had her game face on and her walls up against him.

"You sure about this Cal?" _C'mon, just give me one reason. One reason to stay woman. That's all I need to drop these bags and forget any thought of leaving. _

"Yeah Dean. I'm sure." She turned back to Sam and hugged him lightly. Whispered something to him that sounded suspiciously like '_keep them both safe for me'_. One last look towards Dean.

"You better drive safe dude…and listen to your brother. You may be older but he's got your back when the hothead in you won't let you stop and think."

"I will. You gonna be here when I get back?"

"Should be."

"Better be."

Another loud honk, this one from the Impala. Sam had already snuck out there, they were all ready and waiting on Dean to hit the road.

"If…" he hesitated, knowing what he wanted but afraid to just take it…afraid to ask for it too because of the answer that he might get. "Shit, Cal…are you gonna deck me if I try to kiss you?"

and because she couldn't…because she was just too strung out, emotions too close to the surface so that she knew any second now the tears would start falling…because as strong as she was she just _couldn't do goodbye_…

She didn't answer, just brushed passed him wings and all leaving him alone in the kitchen and wondering how the hell things had become so goddamned screwed up.

* * *

_Thx for reading guys, please review : )_


	11. Chapter 11

_**Chapter Eleven**_

The young girl lay huddled in the corner of a public washroom. He sat on the edge of one of the sinks, watching over her and hoping as he did often now that this night wouldn't be her last.

She was stoned out of her mind, dirty and broken. He'd tried to rouse her, had tried to get her to move enough to at least get home…to somewhere there was a soft bed. Poor girl didn't think she deserved it though, and he couldn't reach her in the state he was in. So she chose instead to lie on the filthy floor and let the drugs take her over. She took them to forget…but they just made the memories sharper, harder to bear.

_I'm sorry little one, it wasn't supposed to be this way. _

He wasn't used to failure, the being who watched over her. Wasn't used to mere mortals messing up his carefully laid out plans. This Caitlin woman though, she'd done one hell of a good job of it.

"_Casimir…Why did you leave me? You said you'd stay…said you'd help until I could do it on my own."_

The human tears cut straight through him. He could feel her pain and it made him want to cry too…that is if he could. In his current form tears were impossible. Instead it seemed the girl would do it for him. There were big wet tears streaming down her face, tinged pink in the harsh fluorescent light as if they were tears of blood. Damn it, but he'd had enough of this! The child had suffered enough in her young life…she would suffer no more.

Crouching down beside her, knowing full well she couldn't see him, he put a comforting hand on her shoulder. Maybe she would hear him this time…maybe she would feel the touch and be able to take small comfort from knowing she wasn't alone.

_Cry your tears child. Cry so that we may both feel. It is better to feel pain than nothing at all. Remember though, as you cry those tears of helplessness that it shan't be for much longer. The woman is coming… the woman and her man will be here soon to help you and when they do you will no longer need me. You will no longer need white powders and syringes. They will help you to become strong so that you might stand alone proudly and without fear. _

It didn't work though. The child heard nothing, simply cried harder.

"_Casimir…Casey…Bringer of Peace, that's what you called yourself isn't it…so where are you now when I need you so desperately? You promised Casey…you promised!"_

The girl closed her eyes and curled into herself as much as she could, oblivious to the fact that she'd just shied away from his touch. Casimir sighed, which was about the only thing he could do in his present state…currently being the consistency of air as he was. She shrank back from the fresh, cool air that suddenly brushed against her cheek. It figured. _That _she could feel.

That Caitlin woman was lucky the girl was in such bad shape, because there was no way he was leaving her side. Broken as she was he couldn't, wouldn't dare risk it. Were it not for that, for the child's long, hard fall back into darkness and his fear that she would perish if he left her to her own devices even for a short while…well Caitlin would currently be dealing with far more than a pretty pair of wings and a few newfound abilities. She'd be dealing with a very angry, incredibly powerful being. The Fae were _not_ beings to be taken lightly.

Not to worry…she'd learn that lesson soon enough.

* * *

Sam couldn't believe it. He just _couldn't believe _that Dean had just gone ahead and done exactly what Cal had told him to. Truthfully, he'd figured they'd make it an hour's drive away before Dean decided to turn back. It had already been four.

"Dude, what is going on with you? Since when do you just do what you're told?"

Dean grunted irritably.

"Hey, I didn't say I was going to stay gone did I? I _told_ you, she needs a little space to deal. If I'd stayed and pushed she'd've just run off again. At least right now she's got Bobby with her to haul her ass out of trouble when she gets into it."

"And how long exactly are you planning to _stay_ gone? Because the longer you're gone, the harder it's going to be to go back. You do realize that don't you?"

A great big hand found it's way to a comforting pat on Dean's shoulder, making Dean growl unpleasantly.

"Dude, get your touchy-feely, chick flick paw off me unless you want to lose it."

Okay, that was it. No way he was going to let his car get defiled by some Oprah moment his brother was hell-bent on having. Time for a change of subject.

"Hey, Kate. You okay back there? I think there's a pit stop coming up about twenty miles from here if you're ready to stretch your legs."

But that backfired too, because it seemed that all she'd been waiting for was an acknowledgement of her presence to put her own two cents in.

"Dean?"

"Yeah?"

"I…um. I don't remember all that much but… Well, Cal's scared right now. She's out of her depth on this one and it's pissing her off. I guess what I'm trying to say… you're going back right? Because that pushing you away stuff she's doing is a total load of crap and you should know that. She's going to need somebody to pick her up when she hits bottom…and that's…"

"Me? Yeah. I know."

_Great_. So _now _Franny's backbone decides to make itself known. Looks like the Oprah moment was going to happen whether he wanted it to or not. Damn.

"Look, you guys need to quit worrying about Cal and me and start focusing this demon problem of yours. Start focusing on each other. If it makes you both feel better to know it I'll be heading back as soon as I drop you off at Jim's, okay? Sooner if Bobby calls with anything new. No way I'm letting her deal with that thing alone again."

Okay, so maybe that wasn't _exactly _the plan. He wasn't going to head back to Cal right away… no, first he was going to hunt down that damned fairy. With Bobby's help he'd get to the damned thing first. The plan was to keep Cal out of harms way so he could fix this _for _her…if he could. But that was something Sam didn't necessarily need to know.

"Really?" They were both skeptical. Was he loosing his touch or something? He was usually a lot more convincing than this, wasn't he? He sure hoped so.

"Yeah. Really." He answered flatly.

"Now can we please stop talking about this? Oh, hey look! A Tim Horton's. Dude, call Dad and Jim and tell them we're pulling in for a minute. I'm getting coffee."

Finally they let it drop. For now. Dean knew better than to think that Sam would just let this go. He'd deal with that when he came to it though.

* * *

Cal and Bobby had been at it for hours now, searching hospital records for a Dolly Maddigan who may or may not have just recently checked out of detox for drug abuse. They figured the best way to find that fae creature would be to retrace its steps. Problem was… there was no Dolly Maddigan. She just didn't exist. Period.

"I don't get it. Nothing, not a single hit in all of Ontario and Quebec. How can this girl not exists? I mean…she was real. I _know _she was real."

The feathers of her wings puffed up and ruffled to suit her mood, which at the moment could at best be described as cranky.

Bobby wasn't sure whether to be amused or annoyed with Cal's mood swings. He was starting to understand Dean's frustration. It was pretty entertaining, until of course you were on the receiving end of it. Well at least he knew which mood she was going to switch to this time.

"Well, I found _something_. It's not much, but it's somewhere to start."

Great big baby blues turned on him excitedly.

"Really? What is it? What did you find?"

And suddenly she was that little pixie of a girl she must have been as a child. He stifled the urge to mutter the words that came to mind _'kids these days'_ choosing instead to answer her question.

"Margaret Desjardins. Sixteen years old. Her parents had her commited to the psych ward of the Ottawa Hospital about a month ago. She ran off a couple of days later and no one's seen or heard from her since."

Cal's face fell. "You're right. It's not much to go on at all."

Pft. Mood swings. One of the many reasons he tried to steer clear of women in general.

"Well there's a picture here if you want to take a look. I think you might be surprised. She's a little grungy but still a pretty good fit for the girl you exorcised."

Well now he had her attention. In fact, she was so curious that she actually came over to where he was sitting so she could get a look at the picture.

It was hard to make out a face under the dirt and bruises, and if it weren't for the glint in her hair from the flash Cal would never have guessed her hair to be blonde. There was no mistaking the girl though.

"My God Bobby…that's her. I mean, she's the farthest thing from the bouncy cheerleader I cornered in the gym a week ago…but that is _definitely_ her."

Touching her fingers to the picture, Cal felt a pang of guilt. If this is what life had been like for her before the fae had offered to help her…

"Caitlin, you did the right thing."

Great. Yet another awesome side-effect to the wings. She'd lost her poker face.

"I never said I didn't"

Shaking his head at her, Bobby made it pretty clear that she didn't have to.

"Changing her name and giving her a new life wouldn't have made her problems go away. The life she left behind would still be there, haunting her better than any ghost or spirit ever could. The kid needs to learn how to stand on her own two feet, how to be strong before she can start building herself a new life."

But Cal wasn't ready to talk about it and at least that was something that hadn't changed. There was leg work to do and that beat a 'share and care' kind of conversation any day.

"We have a name and address for Barbie's parents?"

"I don't know about 'Barbie' but I have names and separate addresses for both of Margaret's parents and a lead in at social services for a younger brother who's in foster care."

"Awesome. Let's hit the road then. I'll talk to the parents and you can follow that social services lead."

Bobby just stared her down.

"What?!?" she tried… she had to try. Yeah Cal, because the innocent act is _so _going to work for you right now.

"Well for one thing, you really think they'll even let you in the door with those wings?"

"Hey, they haven't held me back so far…" …much. Technicalities right?

But the man wasn't having any of it.

"No. We're doing this together kid. After spending the better part of last night on the road looking for your sorry feathered behind there's no way I'm letting you out of my sight on this one. Oh, and before you start getting any bright ideas on how to get around me on this don't bother. I'm not a pushover like your boyfriend is."

Okay then. So maybe Bobby wasn't the quiet, easy going one she'd figured him to be. This could complicate things…just a little.

"I don't know if we're talking about the same Dean here, but the one _I _know isn't any kind of a pushover Bobby."

"Yeah, well. You better head up and pack your stuff. I made an appointment to meet with the doc who was treating her the few days she stayed at the hospital. We've got to be there by eight tonight."

So yeah. Maybe telling Dean to leave…watching him leave…maybe it had hurt her more than she was willing to admit to. Bobby didn't know her very well, but he knew her well enough to know that it was unusual for her to just go ahead and do what he'd suggested. He listened to the shuffle of her feet as she took the stairs one at a time. Looked like she'd be up there awhile. He sighed and dug a cell phone out of his pocket. At least it would give him some time to call Dean.

* * *

The tinny sound of ring tone which just happened to be the opening riffs to AC/DC's Back in Black cut insistently into the quiet of the Impala. Dean scowled at it, hoping to hell it wasn't loud enough to wake Sam or Franny up. One look at the lit display screen and his eyes went wide. This was it: the call he'd been waiting for.

"Bobby? Talk to me." There was a note of urgency to his voice now, that hadn't been there before as he'd chatted with Sam earlier. It was time to get a move on…time to head back.

"Got a lead Dean." That right there? Music to Dean's ears sweeter than any Zeppelin or Metallica he'd ever heard.

"Good. What do you have for me?" Finally something he could sink his teeth into.

"Well, the name the fae gave Cal for the girl was wrong. Turns out the kids' name is Margaret Desjardins, not Dolly Maddigan. She checked herself out of a psych ward a couple of weeks ago."

"Psych ward? For _detox_?"

"Yeah, the parents had her committed." Well wasn't that nice. Couldn't say he would've gone the same route with it…but then he wasn't exactly in their shoes now was he? It wasn't the kid he was worried about right now anyway…he had enough on his plate with Cal, his family and the damned demon.

"So what's the plan then? What do we have to work with?"

"Well, I managed to stall Cal by making us an appointment with the doc who was looking after her at the hospital…I don't see us getting anything useful from him though. Saved that for you. I've got names and addresses for both parents and a lead in with Social Services on the kid brother who's in foster care right now."

"Sounds like a happy little family they've got going on there doesn't it?"

"Yeah, these guys give dysfunctional a whole new meaning. There's more if you can believe it. I've got criminal records for both parents. The mother's been arrested for drug possession, the father just got out of jail for assault…apparently he's got a thing for smacking around women and kids. Especially his own."

Yup, just your average happy family… confirming two theories Dean had going. The first being that people are crazy. Period. The second being that the whole 'friendly' front these Canadians had was just an act to fool the rest of the world into a false sense of security. Cal being his _best_ case in point.

"Where am I headed then?"

"Ottawa."

"Okay, leave me what you've got at Cal's place… up in the loft if you can get it there without making her suspicious."

"What're you thinking Dean?"

"I'll talk to the kid first, hit the parents next. Mother then Dad. Figure I'll go in as Social Services, investigating Margaret's disappearance from the hospital and possible reasons for her to want to run away. I don't see them buying that story from the two of you and three cops on the case of a runaway, drug addict teenager? It's not going to look good."

"Okay then. We'll talk to the doc tonight…check out the mother first thing, and the dad next that way they're not askin' us who the Social Services guy was."

"Yeah, thanks man. Call me if anything else comes up."

Dean had only just pressed the 'end' button on his phone and he was dialing again.

"Dad? Hey, you guys have room for Sammy and Fran in the truck?"

"Yeah. Why, what's going on?"

"Bobby just called. I'm heading back."

"All right son. There's a rest stop about five miles down the road. We'll stop there."

If Dean didn't know better he'd have thought there was a smile in his fathers voice.

"Thanks Dad."

The soft chuckle in the cab of the truck was out of place enough to have Jim glancing from the road ahead of them to the man riding shotgun beside him.

"That was Dean I take it?"

"Yeah. Bobby called him, they've got a lead so he's heading back." He couldn't help another small laugh.

"She's special to him, that Caitlin." It was an open statement designed to keep John talking, rather than the question it came out as. The man had never really been much for words and Jim couldn't resist the opportunity when it arose.

"Yeah. She sure is." And it was good to know.

* * *

He wasn't used to this feeling…this feeling of responsibility. It made Casey itch to _do _something even though there wasn't much he _could _do. At least not for Margaret. Caitlin's little exorcism had left him his powers, sure…but it also left him unable to use them to help the child.

"_Ah Maggie…" _She was still huddled in on herself in the corner of the disgusting little public bathroom, flying high as a kite and passed out cold from it. All he could do was pace back and forth across the stained linoleum and watch her carefully for any sign of change.

Maggie would twitch and flinch in the dream plagued state she was in. Reliving painful memories and whimpering as she did, tears streaming down her face. She'd call for Casey when the dreams were at their worst and that's when he'd leave the room. Never for more than a minute…just long enough to influence the bartender to come back and check her for signs of overdose.

They knew Maggie here… she'd come here often before Casey had first approached her with his offer of help. He was thankful she'd decided to come here tonight. The bartender had a soft spot for her, as Casey himself did. The man had children of his own and watched over Maggie when she came in like this. Not that he did much, but he had fingers and a voice to call for an ambulance should Maggie overdose and that was more than Casey had at the moment. It would have to be enough until Caitlin caught up with them.

Poor Maggie's dreams were at their worst tonight and they had Casey scared which was another feeling that was new to him, and not welcome one either. He didn't leave the room this time when she started screaming. Sat down next to her instead and wrapped arms she couldn't feel comfortingly around her. He didn't need to use his powers to get the bartender to come this time. Maggie's cries were loud enough to summon him on their own. This time though, this time the man wasn't alone.

When the door swung open and the middle aged, slightly balding, greasy looking man rushed in Casey was startled to see another man on his heels. This one's face was familiar. Features that on the child were soft and delicate were sharp and dangerous on the man. He was tall and built in a way that said he worked hard at it. Maggie's father. Things were taking a turn for the worst.

He'd barely set eyes on his daughter and he was across the room, fingers digging bruises into the skin of Maggie's arm.

"On your feet girl." He'd barked angrily as he hauled her up and dragged her halfway across room.

"Hey, what do you think you're doing? That's no way to treat the kid!" The bartender was clearly shocked at the way this man was handling his own daughter.

"I'm taking her useless ass back to my place and teaching her a lesson is what I'm doing." Clearly this man was used to getting his way by use of brute force whenever possible.

The man's threats did little to phase the bartender though, who stepped in front of the door to keep the man from dragging Maggie out. Casey was impressed.

"I'm not just going to sit back here and let you do this to her Dennis. You're her _father _for God's sake!"

Dennis for his part just snorted. "Yeah, like you can stop me Eric."

One hard shove had Eric stumbling away from the doorway and Dennis was dragging poor bewildered Maggie away again.

Fortunately Casey was not prepared to let things stand as they were. He may not be able to reach Maggie, but his powers still worked on the rest of the world.

The bathroom lights flickered ominously as he gave his powers free reign.

Maggie wouldn't hear him, wouldn't see him…but these men would. Casey intended to teach them both a thing or two regarding his thoughts on how they'd been treating the child. His Maggie deserved better than this.

There was a collective gasp from both men when suddenly a tall, beautiful man appeared between them.

"_Put the child down, mortal. Gently."_

Casey's voice was cold as ice, his smile even colder.

Dennis stubbornly shook his head and tightened his grip, pulling Maggie closer to the door. It was enough. The man was obviously not intelligent enough to know when he was out of his depth. He'd made his decision and now Casey was going to show him just how wrong he'd been in thinking he could get away with it.

"_Very well then, you leave me no choice." _

The lights flickered again and Casey disappeared briefly, only to reappear directly in front of Dennis. Hands on wrists he forced the man to lower Maggie until she lay on the ground once more. Another flicker of the lights and the bathroom door had opened, seemingly of it's own will. Dennis' eyes went wide with fear and this pleased Casey immensely.

"_You" _he spoke to the bartender this time. _"Let your waitresses tend the bar tonight. Take my Maggie home and care for her. I'll be along shortly."_

Eric gently lifted Maggie to her feet, obviously fearful. Still, it seemed that the man cared enough about the child not to hesitate in following Casey's orders. "Come on sweetheart… let's get you someplace comfortable and safe, eh?" He spoke softly to her as he guided her out of the room. Yes, he cared. That much was obvious. It was this fact that would save him from Casey's wrath.

Stopping briefly in front of Casimir he boldly looked the fae in the eye. "Just so we get this straight: I'm doing this for her. We clear?"

"_Of course." _Eric nodded. He'd figured as much.

"What're you gonna do with him?" he asked, tilting his chin towards Dennis whose wrists were still firmly trapped in Casey's hands even with the fight he was putting up.

"_He is not your concern, the child is. I shall deal with this one accordingly."_

Eric nodded again, in agreement this time. He was pretty sure that whatever the guy was going to do it would involve Dennis getting a hurt-on. "Do me a favor though? Whatever it is you're planning to do to him, keep it out of my bar."

Casey nodded acknowledgement just the once. _"It is time for the both of you to leave now Eric." _

He was out in the hallway just past the door when he paused one last time. "Hey Dennis? Whatever he does to ya, I want you to know you're gettin' what you deserve." And with a grim smile and another comforting word in Maggie's ear he turned his back on the lowlife of a man who was the girl's father.

"_Now then Dennis…let us have a conversation on the appropriate way to treat children shall we? And perhaps while we are on the subject we can also discuss your role in your daughters downward spiral into darkness." _The cold smile turned predatory and had Maggie's father cowering in fear for the first time in his life.

Casey was nose to nose with the helpless man before him. He wouldn't be able to hold this solid form much longer. That was fine, he didn't need it to put his point across. By the time he was finished with this mere mortal he would have the man thinking twice before even lifting a finger for any reason other than self defense.

A door at the far end of the hallway opened, leading out to a back alley as Casey went transparent again, the lights flickering as his voice drifted through the cool night air, scaring the hell out of Dennis.

"_Step into my parlor then, mortal and let us get on with it."_

* * *

_thx for reading, please review : )_


	12. Chapter 12

_**Chapter Twelve**_

Monday morning found Dean standing on a doorstep somewhere in the Canadian suburbs of Ottawa, wearing a suit, working on no sleep and too much coffee. Yep, all in all this was shaping up to be an awesome day. 'Cause you know, he didn't _really_ want to be unconscious in bed right now instead of somewhere in suburbia.

There were kids trickling down the street… the younger ones meeting on the corner to wait for the school bus and the older ones walking a little further to get to the high school he'd passed on the way in. Dogs pranced around in their yards yipping at anything that walked passed them and parents piled into family sedans and SUV's to head off to their nine to five jobs. Dean was in suburbian _hell_. The neighborhood just reeked of families and wholesomeness so that Dean found himself thankful that Sam wasn't with him for once. In the mood he was in there was just no way he'd have been able to deal with the inevitable wistful sighs and contented smiles.

Pressing a finger to the doorbell he waited to see what was behind door number one in Maggie Desjardins' twisted little life. He didn't wait long either. There was a shrill shout, muffled by the door coming from somewhere at the back of the house. A woman demanding that "Jason, would you get your butt out of bed and answer the door already?" and yeah, somehow Dean didn't think that this was the most wholesome of places for a kid to grow up. Still, from what he'd read of the Desjardins parents _anyplace_ was probably better than where the kid had come from.

He pasted on his most convincing smile as the door opened…to a young boy with darkly rimmed, haunted eyes and a mop of hair so blonde it was almost white.

"Hey there, Jason is it? I'm Brian Johnson from Children's Aid…" and apparently that was the wrong thing to say because the kid's eyes went wide and he backed away from the door.

"Mona!" He shouted as he raced out of sight. "It's for you!"

"What?!? At this time of the morning? Well who is it, boy? My show is on and I don't want to get out of this chair if I don't have to!"

Dean rolled his eyes…able to tell already that this lady was going to be a piece of work. Patience was not exactly one of his strongest virtues right now either…especially now that he was getting a look at the inside of the place. Seriously, it looked like it belonged in one of those magazines on the racks of grocery stores everywhere. Huge open concept rooms where everything was perfectly color coordinated… and way cleaner than any house with kids ever was. He knew a front when he saw one. It did nothing to improve his mood.

There was a muted "What?!?" of surprise and Dean was pretty sure that was when the kid, Jason told his foster mother who was paying them a visit. Dean ginned evilly to himself…he was going to play this one up.

Mona came waltzing in less than a minute later, looking the perfect housewife in a little jogging outfit, as perfectly coordinated as the rest of the house and smiling one of those bright, phony smiles that didn't quite reach her suspicious eyes.

"Hello…Can I help you Mr…?" she was fishing for a name and he was glad to give it to her.

"Johnson ma'am. Brian Johnson. I'm from the Children's Aid...we're conducting an internal investigation on the disappearance of Margaret Desjardins." Insert charming, flirtatious smile here…

"Oh, is Margaret missing? The poor dear…" Bingo…worked every time. Mona was the very picture of motherly concern, laying it on thick as she looked him up and down as if sizing up a prime piece of meat. "You know, Jason begged us to take his sister in last year when we first took him in…Broke my heart to tell the poor boy that we couldn't. I mean, if _only _we'd had enough room for her…"

Yeah, 'cause _that_ was sincere.

"Oh, I don't know Mona… sure looks like you've got plenty of room here. I'm sure if you'd really wanted to you could have found enough space for one more kid. You know, in the interest of keeping the family together."

It was a jab aimed at calling her on the act she was putting on for him and it worked. There was a quick flash of surprise that flitted across her features and then a cold, hardness that replaced the appreciative looks she'd been giving him.

"Anyway… that's not why I came today, is it? I'd like to have a word with Margaret's brother."

"Really?" she asked, suspicion back in full force. Apparently she didn't think it was such a great idea which could only mean that Jason knew something that Mona didn't want Children's Aid to know about. Well then, this was going to be interesting. So he fed her the usual kind of bull that social services fed people that was impossible to say no to…

"Yeah. Sometimes in cases like this kids with nowhere to go find some way to contact their siblings, if only to let them know they're okay. Jason might know something and I'm here to find out if he does and what that might be."

…and waited.

"I don't think that's a very good idea…I mean, poor Jason doesn't even know Margaret's missing…and he's been through _so much _already…" Oh yeah, she was definitely hiding something. Question was: did it have anything to do with the girl or was it just something about this Jason kid?

"Well that's why they sent a trained professional Mona, to minimize the trauma." He smiled the smile of a man who knew he was going to get his way. "So, where can I find Jason? The sooner he and I have our little chat the sooner he can get to school right?"

Mona looked shell-shocked at having been railroaded so thoroughly, but she gestured towards the back of the house. "He's in his bedroom at the back of the house."

He nodded his thanks and walked away from the woman without so much as a word. The social services thing might have just been an act but Dean was pretty sure he wouldn't like what he was going to find anyway.

* * *

It was late morning when she woke on a smile and a soft sigh. Less than two days since Sam and his brother had rescued her from Jake and already she was getting used to waking up in strange beds in unfamiliar places. Oh, but she wasn't complaining. Not at all…because this morning Sam wasn't sitting in a chair next to the bed. Nope, this morning Kate woke up with her head pillowed on his chest and his big muscled arms holding her safe and warm. The slow steady beat of his heart under her ear was the most comforting sound she'd ever heard.

She felt safe… like even the yellow-eyed demon _thing_ they were so worried about couldn't touch her. Hell, it probably wouldn't even dare with her sasquatch around. The though alone was enough to put a big cheeky grin on her face.

There was a soft knock on the motel room door. John Winchester maybe? Or the pastor Jim? One of the two letting them know it was time to get up and hit the road again. Another reason to smile. It was time to wake the sleeping giant.

She was pretty sure she'd done this before, turning in his arms as he slept and slowly crawling up his body. It wasn't that far a stretch from the dreams she'd been having of the guy. In fact, she'd begun to believe that there was something to this memory loss theory. Like maybe the dreams were just her minds way of reminding her of what she'd forgotten… or maybe it had grabbed on to what she remembered of Sam as some sort of defense mechanism to keep her sane when Jack went nuts on her. Either way, she decided that stealing herself a good morning kiss and waking Sam in the process was an all-together perfect way to start the day.

On her stomach now, leaning on her elbows in the crook of his arm with her face inches from hers she took advantage of his sleeping state to take in the sight of him. Dark hair fell softly across his forehead and cheek that her fingers itched to brush aside. The markings of battle were still there. It hadn't been said, but she knew they'd come from Jack. There had been a fight between the two men once she'd gone. The fact that Jack was the one who'd lost that fight didn't need to be said either because Kate knew it too.

Sam hadn't shaved the beard…though he had taken the time to trim it and clean it up so that it was shorter than it had been in weeks. To her surprise she liked it, a lot. It gave him a bit of a rougher edge than she remembered him having. Not that she didn't enjoy him clean shaven…just that it was a pleasant change.

There was no smile on his face as he slept this morning. That was different too, and it was a change that Kate did not find welcome. Maybe there was a way to bring the smile back? She could certainly think of one…or two ways to do that.

Leaning in a little she let her lips brush against his lightly…oh so lightly. Just enough to say they'd touched, and then pulled away. Sam's arm tightened a little around her, as if he were assuring himself she really was still there. Sleep fogged eyes opened and adjusted themselves to the morning light finally settling on her face. She felt the fingers of the hand that wasn't holding her tuck a stray strand of hair behind her ear and watched as a slow smile appeared in the depths of his beard.

"The sleeping giant wakes." She teased him lightly, making his dimples appear.

"Did you just…" and it was pretty obvious he was asking about the kiss. There was nothing for her to do but to nod that yes, she had.

He couldn't resist. Kate was more Fran this morning than she had been at all since they'd found her and it was just too tempting to tease her, even just a little bit. Needing to hear her laugh again like he needed air to breathe.

"So…I guess that probably counts as a first kiss then doesn't it?" he asked innocently.

He wasn't disappointed, her quiet laughter wrapped around him like a blanket generating the kind of warmth no cloth could ever provide…and then she surprised him again.

"Nah, nothing I can think of could possibly beat the first kiss _I_ remember."

Because she did remember that first kiss, though it was a surprise to her as well. The vivid image of she and Sam on the couch of her hotel room in New York a year ago… but he didn't give her the time to think it over. Threading his free hand into her hair he pulled her in for another kiss instead.

Whoever was knocking at the door could wait. As far as they were both concerned this kiss was far more important than whatever was waiting for them on the other side of that door.

* * *

He was right and for once he wished he hadn't been. After the rest of the house that he'd seen so far Jason's room was…well it was pathetic was what it was. Everything in the room was bare bones simple. A wooden desk and dresser and a small bed tucked away in one corner…almost too small for the blond kid sitting on it. Other than a couple of school books on the desk there was nothing in the room. No toys, no pictures…nothing that said this room belonged to someone. Especially not a kid.

Actually, now that he thought about it, that seemed to be a recurring theme in the place. He hadn't seen a single thing that looked like it belonged to an eight year old. Not even a bike in the front yard.

So yeah, he'd been right. He really didn't like what he'd found.

The kid, Jason, was staring at him wide-eyed and…yeah that was fear alright. Well, that was something he could do something about at least.

Dean's eyes settled on the rock-band t-shirt the kid was wearing and smiled.

"Metallica fan eh?"

The kid scowled.

"Yeah. What's it to you?"

Obvious contempt for authority figures. Belligerent too. Dean was really starting to like this kid.

"I'm a pretty big fan myself actually." Jason just rolled his eyes, like he saw Dean's type all the time.

"Yeah, I'll bet you do." And damned if that wasn't the first time he'd had sarcasm thrown at him by an eight year old kid. Dean couldn't help the grin.

"All right tough guy…don't believe me? Ask me something. Anything you want. I bet you five bucks I can answer anything you throw at me."

Jason watched him carefully from under too long, messy blond bangs. "Anything huh?"

"Yeah. C'mon, give it your best shot."

The kid smiled, looking like he knew he was about to make an easy five bucks. "Okay then." and since when do eight year olds ooze smugness? "What instrument does John Bonham play for the band?"

Dean was impressed…and he had to wonder just how used to this he really was. The question was designed to fool a guy who didn't know any better. Too bad for the kid that Dean knew his stuff.

"Dude, that's just too easy."

"Oh yeah? Let's hear it then."

"He doesn't. John Bonham was the lead singer for Zeppelin until he died in 1980. Metallica didn't even exist 'til '81." He winked at the kid and handed him a five dollar bill, making him smile. "But I'll give this to you anyway 'cause it took guts to call my bluff like that."

Jason tried to hide the smile but he couldn't stop the corners of his mouth from curling up. "So… what was your name again?" he asked, looking as innocent as any kid Dean had ever seen. Something felt off though, like he was about to walk into something by answering the kid. Ridiculous right? He was eight for crying out loud.

"Brian Johnson."

"and you're from the Children's Aid Society?"

"Yup."

"Yeah right. That's a load of crap if I ever heard one."

Wait a second… was the kid calling him a liar? Was he _actually_ getting caught out by a _kid_? Dude, he had to be loosing it if he was that obvious.

"You're good man… but Brian Johnson's the lead singer for AC/DC."

"Yeah…well, so he's not the only guy in the world with that name is he?"

"Nope."

"So who's to say I'm not who I say I am then?"

"I'm what they call a 'hard case' dude."

"And…?" where the heck was the kid going with this?

"and that means I'm the kid that nobody wants to deal with. So I've met all the social workers this side of Quebec, and a few from the other side too. Dude, you're not one of 'em."

Oh. Okay then. So…now what? The kid had that answer too, and he gave it to Dean without ever even having to be asked.

"You're here about Maggie aren't you?"

"Yeah Jason, I am."

"Why?" he asked wearily.

"Well, she and my girl met awhile back and they both ended up in…well I won't lie to you…they're both in _a lot_ of trouble. I need to find Maggie so I can help them get out if it." It was as close to the truth as Dean could get without mentioning the fae creature, and he hoped the kid wouldn't see through this particular lie too.

"What kind of trouble?" Jason looked scared now. "Is it my dad? Did he find her? He came to my school yesterday…wanted me to tell him where she is. I wouldn't tell him though and he got really mad. Is Maggie okay?"

And where the hell was Sam when he needed him? Because seriously, those scared eyes were burning a hole straight through him and all Dean wanted to do was tell him everything was going to be okay…except that he couldn't, because he just didn't know if that was true. This kid had been through enough already. Dean was not going to lie to him about this one.

"Truth is I really don't know kiddo. She's been missing for the last few days…almost a week actually. I don't know if she's okay. That's why I need your help to find her."

Jason paled visibly, letting his head fall forward a little so he could stare at the fingers he was worrying the edge of his t-shirt with. "So…Dad might not've…" and then his head popped up again looking like he'd just realized something huge. "Wait, you said Maggie's been missing…but she hasn't. Not really."

The kid jumped off the bed and went straight for the dresser, pulling open the top drawer. When he turned around again he was holding a rolled up pair of bulky-looking socks and a look of triumph. Dean had to wonder if the kid had a screw loose or something…until he unrolled them and produced one of those little walkie-talkie type deals that look like cell phones.

"I talk to Maggie everyday…just for a minute or two. Enough so she doesn't have to worry if I'm okay. Said last night that she was heading over to this place…a bar she likes to hang out at."

"Wow. I'm impressed. I take it your foster parents don't know about this?"

"Nope…and if you tell 'em I'll tell Social Services and the cops that you're not really Brian Johnson."

Dean arched a brow. Well played dude. Not the first time the kid had surprised him today. He needed to feel like he had the upper hand and Dean wasn't about to take that away from him.

"What _is _your name anyway?"

"Tell you what…I'll give you my name _and _get you a day off school if you show me where this bar is."

It was tempting. He could tell just from looking at him that Jason was considering it. On one hand the kid wanted to see for himself that his sister was okay…on the other hand Dean was a complete stranger, who'd already lied to him once. Who's to say he wasn't dangerous?

"Look, dude...I know it's hard for you to believe but I'm here to help."

"You promise you won't hurt her?"

"I promise kiddo. Now how's about we take a ride and see if we can't find Maggie huh?" Maybe he could get some food into the kid while they were at it. Looked like he handn't had a good meal in…well, ever.

The kid crossed small, thin arms across his tiny chest. "Name?" 'cause of course he wasn't going to budge until Dean gave him what he'd asked for. Yeah, this kid was definitely growing on him.

"It's Winchester. Dean Winchester." And he knew he sounded like some sort of dorky James Bond wannabe. It made the kid smile though and that right there made it worth loosing the 'cool' for just a second.

* * *

_thx for reading : ) please review_


	13. Chapter 13

She'd been awake since before sunrise. Okay, so to be honest…she'd been up all night really. But she wasn't waiting for the man to call. Cal just wasn't the type of girl to sit around and wait for a man to call. Not even if said man happens to be Dean freaking Winchester…who actually _hadn't _called, thank you very much. But Cal was okay with that right? Because she's her own woman and her life does _not_ depend on some guy picking up the phone and calling her.

Oh, and not only is she _not_ the type to just wait next to the phone all night…she's _also _not the type to be disappointed…or anywhere near devastated for that matter…when the phone doesn't actually ring. At all. All night.

Well okay, so maybe she was…but she was never going to admit it. Especially not to _him._

Of course not. He'd have to actually pick up the phone and _call_ for her to be able to do that anyway.

So yeah. No sleep and a lot of pent up hurt and disappointment made for an extremely cranky Cal. Bobby on the other hand? Yeah, he had no trouble sleeping. Spent most of the night snoring away in one of the lumpy Queen sized motel room beds of the room he'd insisted they share so he could keep an eye on her.

She had no idea how he figured he'd be able to keep her from running off. The guy could probably sleep through a nuclear explosion, which already annoyed the hell out of Cal. Then there was the snoring…and seriously? The guy sounded like an airplane taking off for God's sake and quite frankly that was enough said about that as far as she was concerned. Add to that the fact that he was _very_ much a morning person…we're talking full-on happy to be alive with the whistling and the smiling and the… ugh. Yeah, There were just _no words_ to express exactly how Cal felt about that particular subject. Period.

Now usually…even in the crabby foul mood she was in there was the possibility of turning the morning around for herself. A long hot shower and some good strong coffee was enough to do it…unfortunately 'long hot shower' was not exactly the calming experience it should have been. What with having to maneuver around the wings and all she couldn't refer to it as anything nicer than 'an experience' and she didn't have Dean around to give her a hand with drying her wings after either. Yeah, this was shaping up to be one fine morning wasn't it?

And at that exact moment, staring at her angry flushed face off-set by those impossible downy white wings in the tiny bathroom mirror, Cal decided that she'd had enough of this crap. It was time for her to get some semblance of control over her own body…and she knew exactly how she was going to do it too. The damned wings had to go. She couldn't remove them…but she could hide them. Yeah…that was exactly what she'd do.

Bobby wasn't really sure how Cal had done it but he was impressed. He'd gone out to grab them a couple of coffees and when he'd walked back in the room and hour later the woman had somehow managed to fold down her wings and tuck them under her leather jacket so that they didn't show at all.

Oh sure, she was walking a little funny and had a weird look on her face that said she was less than comfortable but she'd managed the impossible and had achieved inconspicuous, or at least as close to it as Caitlin O'Sulivan ever could get. From the looks of her she was pretty darned proud of herself for it too which was a major improvement in the mood department as far as he was concerned. Thank God for that too because Cal had been in a _terrible _mood, the kind that usually didn't get better until she started using her fists.

"Uh…you okay Cal?"

"Yeah…never better." The small scowl of discomfort told him differently but Bobby was a smarter man than to push for the truth.

"Ready to hit the road?" He asked, glancing toward the sleek little red Mustang parked just outside her motel room window.

"Just about…" Considering the things they were currently up against there was no way Cal was leaving the room unarmed.

She pulled a couple of wicked looking knives out of her bag and slipped them into the sheaths sewn into the inseams of her boots, earning a long low whistle from Bobby. A cocky grin crossed her lips as she slipped another much smaller, much slimmer knife in a sheath she'd tucked just inside the waistband of her jeans. The glint of light on metal caught Bobby's eye from just inside her jacket and he realized she had guns hidden in there too.

Good God, the woman was gearing up as if she were going into the apocalypse. He was beginning to see what it was Dean saw in her.

She looked up and smiled again, looking as if she knew _exactly _what he'd just been thinking.

"Okay. I'm good to go now." She told him, the very picture of innocence. You know, except for all that deadly weaponry she was carrying.

"You sure? I think you might've actually left something sharp in that little bag of yours." Because it just wouldn't do for her to leave a weapon behind right?

"Haha…well aren't we funny this morning." But he'd hit the right note because her laughter was light and heartfelt.

"Let's go dude. We've got a couple of deadbeat parents to talk to…and I intend on getting somewhere this morning." Because that doctor guy last night had got them a great big load of nowhere. "C'mon, we're burning daylight…" Wings or no, the rougher aspects of Cal's personality were starting to make themselves known…and you just don't argue with the girl when she's made up her mind. So Bobby just followed her out.

Well, at least he'd be the one driving.

* * *

Dean was ushering Jason out the door when the foster mother decided to make herself known. Crap. She didn't look to happy either, shrieking like that with her face all contorted. Dude…no way the kid deserved to be treated like that. For once he was thankful for the damned suit he was wearing.

"Jason Desjardins, where do you think you're going?" She asked him sharply.

The kid was good. Looking at him you could never tell how scared he was. Only reason Dean knew the woman had that effect on him was because he felt the kid's shoulder tense under his hand at the sound of Mona's voice.

Jason felt a light comforting squeeze on his shoulder and then Dean cleared his throat loudly.

"Uh well, Jason's going to spend the day with me today Mona. I'll need you to call the school and let them know he won't be coming in today."

"What?" It came out a strangled screech that had Dean sliding a look towards the kid next to him as if to ask 'what the hell's wrong with this woman'? Jason just shrugged. Who knew?

"Jason's going to take me around to some of the places where he knows his sister likes to hang out. He's going to help me so that hopefully I can get a lead on where she is."

"Oh really, you think so?" She asked, clearly having her own ideas on what was going to happen. Dean wasn't having any of it though. Patience was not one of his finer virtues this morning…or ever really. So the answer he gave her came out more than a little harsh.

"No…no I don't think so. I know so."

"Well I say he's going to school. I know the kind of places you're going. That girl is nothing but trouble. There's no way I'm going to allow an eight year old boy anywhere near those places. Jason, go get your bag…you're going to school. Now."

"No. I'm not Mona." The kid defiantly stood his ground in front of his foster mother. There was no doubt that he was going to fight for what he wanted until he got it. Mona was not impressed and was just opening her mouth to shriek exactly what she thought of Jason's open defiance…when Dean stepped up between the two so that she'd have to go through him to get to the boy.

"There are a couple of ways this could go lady. What you've got to ask yourself right now is whether you're willing to loose your status as a foster parent over this."

Mona just stood there, red faced with her mouth opening and closing like some sort of weird fish. Apparently she wasn't used to being threatened.

"Yeah, that's what I thought." Then turning back to Jason. "Come on squirt, get your shoes on. The sooner we get going sooner we can find Maggie."

Mona was still staring when they walked out the door a few minutes later.

Jason had stopped in his tracks about three feet behind Dean, completely in awe of the 1967 Chevy Impala parked right there in the driveway.

"Is…is she yours?" he somehow managed to squeak out and Dean chuckled. The kid had taste alright.

"Yeah…she's mine." There was no mistaking the pride hr had in his beautiful monster of a car.

The kid realized pretty quickly that he'd let his guard down though because he quickly changed expression. He went from 'Oh hell _yeah_' to 'whatever dude' shrugging it off and climbing into the passenger side.

Jason was one tough kid alright… and Dean admired him for it. Both man and boy were grinning widely from ear to ear seconds later as the sound of the engine's roar enveloped them while the Impala sped its way out of the suburbs.

* * *

The kid's mother's place was a giant bust. Cal and Bobby had knocked on the flimsy door of her fifth floor apartment in the dingiest apartment building either one of them had ever seen (and that was saying an awful lot) for a good ten minutes with no answer.

They could hear music blasting through the place. The loud dance type stuff with the kind of bass to it that makes you feel like your internal organs were turning to mush.

"Sounds like she's got one hell of a party going on in there Bobby…"

He wasn't so sure he liked where this was going though. Sam and Dean had told him _stories _about Cal and parties.

"Yeah, so? What're you thinking girl?" He almost didn't want to know. Almost, except that he needed that particular information in case he was stuck with damage control after.

"So… what do you say we crash this thing? I'm in the mood to have a little fun."

Now, over the years Bobby had gone up against countless evils of all kinds. He'd performed so many exorcisms he'd lost count a long while back. Never in all that time, against all those things had Bobby ever seen such an evil smile. He knew right then and there _exactly _what those Winchester boys had tried to warn him about.

Then again… Bobby had been a hell raiser in his own right back in the day. Oh, who was he kidding? He still was even though he didn't act on it like he used to.

"It's been a long time since this old dog's been to any kind of a party Caitlin."

She arched a brow at him. Was that a yes, or a no? Bobby smiled his own brand of evil smile and waved an arm towards the door.

"Ladies first…"

Cal was willing to overlook the 'lady' part since it meant she could smash her booted foot into the door. The satisfying crash it made as it swung open and hit the wall more than made up for it anyway. Not to mention the little fact that she'd be able to swing her fists at anyone who came at her. Yeah, that little bit helped too… at least it did until they were standing in the middle of a very messy living room, she with her fists up, and he with his rifle in hand and ready for use. That's when they realized the place was empty. Or at least the room they were in was.

Bobby started inching his way through the apartment, checking the bathroom and the nearest bedroom, always rifle first just in case…but Cal knew he wasn't going to find anything. She could smell the telltale sweetly sour scent of pot wafting through the place… and there was a thin trail of bluish smoke coming from the kitchen. Mrs. Desjardins was in the process of mellowing out, apparently.

The criminal record they'd found on her had mentioned suspicion of trafficking. So… maybe she was testing out the merchandise? If that was the case then Cal couldn't be sure that the woman was alone in there which left her with a bit of a dilemma. Pull out her guns? Her knives? Or go in unarmed? Well… unarmed was always fun. It left her with the option of changing her mind and it left her the element of surprise considering how well her weaponry was hidden and she sure could use the exercise. Okay then, unarmed it is.

There was just enough time to register that Bobby had shut the music off as she lifted her foot and watched the kitchen door go the same way the apartment door had gone. There was only one person in the room. Which was…yeah, disappointing really. Especially since it seemed there would be no fight here.

A tired looking middle aged woman with bleach blonde hair in a ratty old pink bathrobe sat at the rickety wooden table in the filthy kitchen drinking coffee and chain smoking her life away. Joints, cigarettes…it didn't seem to matter to her either way as long as there was something to move back and forth from her fingers to her lips.

She didn't even bother looking at them, just kept staring out towards the window above the sink from where she sat.

"You looking for Dennis? 'Cause the s.o.b. ain't here." Her voice was raspy and burnt out, making her seem even older than she appeared.

"No Mrs. Desjardins, we're looking for Margaret. She's been missing for the last week or so. You know where she is?"

"Oh God. You're lookin' for Mags? Just as bad as her Father that one."

Okay, so no love lost between those two apparently, but that still didn't answer Cal's question did it?

"So…does that mean you've seen her recently...?" Because, seriously…how many times did she have to ask the question to get a straight answer anyway? The woman must have caught whiff of Cal's angry impatience because this time she did answer.

"Nah, I haven't seen Mags in weeks. Kid's crazy. Last I heard Dennis'd checked her into a psych ward somewhere. Good riddance too, if ya ask me…not that anyone ever does."

Well _that_ was helpful.

"What you're saying then is that Margaret's father Dennis is the last person in your family to have seen her?"

"Well yeah. Didn't I just say that Dennis was the one to drop her off? He came in here, throwing his weight and his fists around yesterday lookin' for her too. Mad as all hell. Like it was my fault she ran off or somethin'. Not my fault he can't keep track a what's his. Anyway, called the cops I did. They sent 'im packing…"

Okay then. So the dad was looking for her too.

Mrs. Desjardins face disappeared behind another cloud of bluish smoke and she drifted off into her own little world again, oblivious to Bobby and Cal…and the doors that had been kicked off their hinges…and the rest of the world apparently the way she was staring out into space like that.

Bobby shook his head. Some people… some people just didn't deserve to be parents.

The woman had got Cal's attention though and now she had an idea on how to speed up the whole 'find the kid' plan.

"Hey, Bobby?"

"Yeah?"

"I'm thinking if we find the kid's dad and tail him, he'll lead us right to her."

"Well that'd make things a whole lot easier."

"Exactly what I'm saying."

"All right then, let's go. I've got the guy's address out in the car."

They left the place as it was…doors off their hinges and all.

* * *

"You sure this is the place?" Dean asked, obviously skeptical.

"Yeah." It was pretty clear that Jason knew the place well enough to know for sure too.

Problem was Dean had been in that particular place before…a couple of nights earlier actually…when he'd been hunting Cal down after she'd taken off for a fun night out. Problem was this was pretty darn close to being the seediest bar in Ottawa. He'd seen friendlier looking _biker bars _for God's sake.

But Jason was sure. The bartender was friendly, he said. He let Maggie hang out there when she had no place else to go…and lately that had been all the time. Eric (the bartender) had saved Maggie's life twice already, calling 9-1-1 when she overdosed on whatever it was she had in there those nights. Not exactly 'night-in-shining-armor' material or anything but as far as Dean had seen it was more than anyone else had been willing to do for her.

"Okay then…you stay here. Don't touch anything and lock my door behind me. I'll go in there and talk to Eric. See if he can't point us in the right direction."

Jason was staring at him as if he were growing another head out of his neck or something. "What?" 'Cause this Winchester dude couldn't possibly for real.

"Dude, you want me to just sit here and wait in the car?"

"Well _yeah_. You're just a kid, it's safer for you in here."

"Dean… they know me in here because of my sister. I'm okay going in. _You_ on the other hand? Going in there looking like one of the Blues Brothers in that suit? You're gonna get your ass kicked."

So yeah…maybe the kid had a point. The jacket and tie had to go. Not much he could do about the rest of it though. Didn't matter, because no way he was going in there unprotected…though he wasn't about to tell Jason he'd be packing heat.

"I don't care if some long lost great uncle left you the bar in his damned will kid. No way am I taking an eight year old into a place like this. You're parking your persqueeter and staying in the car or I'm taking you right back to Mona's. We clear?"

But of course Jason didn't answer him. Nope, instead he had the door open and was running towards the alley next to the grungy bar.

"Dude! Where the hell're you going?"

"My dad… I think I just saw my dad crawling around back there!"

Which was good right? Since he'd been planning to pay the guy a visit anyway…except that Jason was running into a dark alley towards a man who had just recently been released from _prison _for beating on his family. That right there? All kinds of _not_ good.

In a panicked rush Dean all but flew from the Impala to the alley just in time to see Jason get shoved off by a tall blond man literally crawling across the pavement. Well…at least Dean _thought _he might be blonde. Hard to say from under all that blood…

"Jason!" the kids' head snapped up and their eyes met. "Is that him?"

"Yeah…"

and Jesus the guy looked like he'd gone ten rounds with the dumpster, three guesses which one of 'em won. The guy was sprawled out on his back barely moving…the dumpster on the other hand was still standing.

Dean put the Impala keys in Jason's hand and turned him away from the scene.

"There's a phone on the seat in my car. Call 9-1-1 and stay on the line with 'em 'til they get here. Lock yourself in the car and don't come out or let anyone in until I come join you okay?"

Jason nodded, meekly for once. Good to know the kid was scared of _something. _Though what that was exactly considering the situation was anyone's guess.

"Are you…uh….gonna hurt him Dean?"

"Why? You want me to?" 'Cause given what he knew about the guy…well if _he'd _been the one to meet Dennis in that alley earlier there were good chances the guy would have found himself in worse shape than he was in now.

"I… no. Maggie says that no matter how mean a person is it's still not right to hurt them for no good reason."

"Good thing someone got to him before we did then 'cause knowing what I do about the guy I'm not sure I wouldn't have done the same to him."

Because grown men hitting kids? Yeah, not something that sat well with Dean.

His reaction did nothing to calm Jason's fear though.

"Your dad needs help dude. Go make the call. I'll see what I can do to patch him up some until the ambulance gets here, okay?"

and Jason nodded, running towards the safety of the Metallicar.

He waited until the kid was out of sight, tucked in and locked safely away in the Impala before he turned his attention on this man…this Dennis guy who called himself a father to those two kids. Sorry excuse for a human being that he was.

Kneeling down beside him, Dean got in as close as he could without getting blood on his suit. "Hey Dennis. You awake man?"

"What do you want?" Came the older man's angry, wounded growl. Well, well. There were signs of life. Okay. Good sign. Dean had a shot at getting some kind of information out of him.

"Where's Margaret?"

"Who wants to know?"

"Children's Aid for starters. "

"Screw you, you're not Childrens' Aid."

"Maybe not, but you're not in any kind of position to be questioning me right now are you? You know where your daughter is?"

"I do. No way I'm telling _you _though."

There came the loud scraping sound of heavy metal on pavement and Dean _swore_ he saw the dumpster move a good six inches toward them…threateningly, and that just made no sense at all.

Except apparently those ten rounds really had been with the dumpster…or whatever it was that was controlling it right now because suddenly Dennis was scared. Not just 'holy crap, this is bad' scared either. No, all of a sudden Dennis was shaking like a leaf and squealing like a pig scared. A second ago Dean couldn't get him to talk and now he doubted he could shut him up even if he'd wanted to try.

Most of it was blabber. Stuff like 'oh god no, please don't hurt me again…I'll tell him, I swear I'll tell him' but some of it was useful. Like the part about the bartender Eric being told by some guy named Casey to take Maggie home with him and keep her safe. That part he liked. That part gave them another lead on where the kid was.

Satisfied that Dennis had told him everything he knew, Dean patted him patronizingly on the shoulder and stood up. "The paramedics'll be here soon, Jason's on the phone with them right now. You'll live. I don't know what the hell a guy like you ever did to have as great a kid as that one is but let me tell you somethin'. You put a hand on him again, even just to shove him away like you did a few minutes ago? Well, I'll make this…whatever it is that happened to you…look like a walk in the park. Got that?"

Dennis couldn't get out more than just a groan.

"I'll take that as a yes." And then he walked away. Wouldn't take much for him to find this 'Eric the bartender' guy.

Finally he was getting somewhere with this. God, he couldn't wait to get this all done and over with. Life had just been so much _simpler _without all this stuff about wings and fairies…okay so one thing life with Cal could never be described as was 'simple'. Entertaining…eventful… yeah. Simple no. Definitely not. Whatever, he just wanted things back to the way they'd been before this whole mess started.

The bar doors were wide open and unlocked, waitresses were cleaning up and getting things ready for the 'liquid lunch' crowd that apparently came crawling in pretty early in the day considering it wasn't even ten am yet. A little flirting, a little lying and it was a pretty simple thing to get Eric's home phone number…and a couple of other numbers he would probably never use, though they did manage to put a sly grin on his face. He'd never get tired of that…seriously.

Somewhere far across town Cal and Bobby were knocking on another dingy apartment door looking for Dennis Desjardins and completely oblivious to the fact that he was lying in an alley somewhere, beaten to hell and waiting for the paramedics to show up.

Dean would call Bobby soon enough to let him know what was going on…after he found the girl when he knew Cal wouldn't be able to hunt him down and get herself into more trouble over this before he could fix it.

* * *

_Thanks for reading, please review : )_


	14. Chapter 14

_**Chapter Fourteen**_

Eric the bartender's house was one of those low-rise bungalow type houses. A package deal with a white picket fence, a wife in the kitchen, a couple of kids, a dog and a cat. Fortunately, it being Monday morning and all the kids were at school so it was just Eric and his wife Bonnie. All in all they were kind folk who really did seem to care what happened to Maggie and Jason. They bought Dean's story of being a distant cousin from somewhere 'state-side' ('cause no way was he ever going to pass of as Canadian, eh)

He found Maggie huddled in on herself between the wall and the bed in their guest room, a sweaty, shaking, crying mess who was apparently in desperate need of a fix.

"How long's she been like this?"

Dean was way out of his league on this one. Hadn't ever dealt with this kind of thing before. His first instinct was to pick the girl up, whisk her and Jason away somewhere where they'd be safe and God help whoever tried to come after them and drag them back into this twisted life of theirs.

"Since she came into the bar last night. Her and this guy… tall, striking kind of dude if ya know what I mean. I think Maggie called him Casey. Strange guy really. He just kind of popped up, like he came out of thin air or something. Didn't like the way Dennis was treating her. Neither did I really."

Casey? Maybe he was the 'what' that had worked Dennis over with the dumpster?

Jason had once again refused to stay in the car. Kid was stubborn as a mule. Somehow he'd just known she'd still be in that house. Wild horses couldn't have dragged him away from the girl once he saw her. He watched as Jason wrapped gentle arms around his sister and pulled her head against his small shoulder and was suddenly glad that Cal hadn't been there to witness it. Thankful that he'd been able to save her _those_ tears at least.

"Jace?" Maggie was coming to herself now, with Jason so close and the drugs working their way out of her system even as her body screamed for more. When she realized her brother really was there she started to cry. That's when Dean made a spontaneous decision he was sure he'd regret later.

"Eric? I'm taking these two away from here. Someplace safe."

Eric ran a thoughtful hand over his bald spot and considered Dean seriously.

"You got some kind of official permission to do that man?"

Dean hesitated, unsure what kind of an answer the guy was looking for. Eric seemed okay enough, and he knew what kind of a life these kids were facing so he figured he'd give the truth a go. Face hardening and lips pressed together suddenly looking very dangerous he shook his head. Apparently it was the answer Eric was expecting.

"I would've done it myself years ago if I could've. Tell you what, if anyone comes lookin' for 'em I've never seen you _or_ the kids."

"Thanks man."

"Don't thank me. I should have done a hell of a lot more for that girl. I'm just glad she's got somebody to look out for her finally."

Bonnie stepped up beside Eric and handed Dean a knapsack. "Just a few things I thought those two might need." She explained before going to Maggie.

Keeling beside her Bonnie carefully pried Jason away from his sister and wrapped the girl in a thick warm blanket to help her ward off the chills that had taken over her body.

"Come on sweetheart. Your cousin is here. He's going to take you somewhere safe."

Wild eyed and disoriented Maggie had no choice but to stand and walk with Bonnie. It was painful just to watch her take those baby steps on wobbly kneed legs to get to the front door. She didn't even make it that far.

Halfway through the house her legs gave out from under her and she crumpled to the ground.

The hell with this. Dean crouched down beside her and wrapped muscled arms around her tiny frame, picking her up like he would a small child and cradling her to his chest. She'd suffered enough. He carried her out to the car.

Jason didn't need to be told what to do, just reached into Dean's pocket for the car keys and ran ahead to open the door to the backseat for him.

"Bonnie's put one of my business cards in the bag. Our house line's on it too. You or the kids need anything just give us a call. Well do whatever we can."

With a roar of powerful engine the Impala took them away, Dean at the wheel driving them straight out of town towards the farmhouse. Looking back only long enough to reach for his ringing phone when Jason handed it to him, determination in the set of his jaw. No way he was going to let anything bad happen to these kids.

* * *

Cal was watching Bobby suspiciously as he pulled out his phone.

"Who're you calling?"

He didn't have to answer her.

"Hey Dean. We've run into a bit of a snag…"

Oh he hadn't!

"Yeah, the mother's place was a bust. She didn't have anything for us other than what we already had on the kid…and the father's not home…" Bobby's eyes went wide then, to whatever it was that Dean was saying. "He was where? Well _hell_… paramedics got to him in time? Good…wait… you found her?" and that right there got Cal's attention because the only 'her' Bobby could mean at this point had to be Margaret. Which meant what exactly? Dean was supposed to be headed towards Blue Earth, Minnesota with the others right now. Well now she had a pretty good idea as to why the man hadn't called the night before…she would have known just from talking with him if something was up.

She didn't ask, wasn't in the mood to be that nice. No, Cal relieved Bobby of his cell phone and put it to her own ear without so much as a 'please' or 'thank you'. He'd expected as much, really…but it was still a surprise.

"…she's a mess Bobby…and her brother… well he's a tough kid, I'll give him that but he's feeling the burn…"

Oh great, so he'd found Maggie and her brother and now…he was what?

"Well hello there Dean. I see you've capitalized on our leads…would that happen to be why Bobby and I came up with nothing?"

"Oh…hey Cal." Not even the thought of his startled face as she'd obviously caught him off guard was enough to distract her from her current mission.

"Don't 'hey Cal' me Dean. What're you up to? Aren't you supposed to be on your way to Blue Earth right now? Where the heck are you anyway? And where are you taking those kids?"

"Wow… well uh… hello to you too there sweetheart. I missed you too."

"_DEAN_!"

"Okay, _okay_! Bobby called me last night with some information so Fran and Sam went ahead with Dad and Jim. I turned back to help…"

"And you couldn't've called to let me know you were back in town? Why didn't you come join us. We could've done this as a team…"

"Do you even remember what you said to me yesterday Cal?"

Oh…yeah. Right. Still though, she didn't like him sneaking around like this…it was almost as if… no. No. He wouldn't…would he? Oh… he _so_ would! Suddenly the answer to her question was crystal clear.

"_Tell _me you're not taking those kids someplace so you can get in touch with this fae thing yourself?"

"What? No!" The defensive tone of his voice told her otherwise though.

"Alright then, where are you taking them Dean?"

There was a pause that made her think he might have hung up…but then he let out a tentative cough. The kind that always came before he brought up something unpleasant…or dodged a question.

"I, um… can't tell you that Cal."

"Damnit, you can't fix this for me Dean! I won't let you do this. Where the hell are you?"

"Just… look, I need you and Bobby to hole up back at the motel for now. Salt the place up good. Stay safe, okay? I'll call you as soon as it's over Cal. Talk to you soon."

"_No the hell way!!!_ You are _not _doing this Winchester…" Shouting, she learned, was not nearly as satisfying when your audience was the dial tone.

"You!" she said pointing at Bobby accusingly. "You _knew_ he was doing this, didn't you?"

He just shrugged sheepishly – nothing he could do about it now right?

"Where? Where _is_ he…and where's he taking them?"

And just like that he knew that Cal wasn't ever going to let this go.

"Toss me the keys Cal." He sighed. "I'll drive…and take that damned jacket off will ya? Stretch those wings of yours some. Seriously, you tucked 'em in so tight it's making you cranky."

And cranky was difficult to deal with when the girl didn't have a door to kick in.

* * *

Dean could see the outline of a man in his backseat as he pulled in the driveway. A barely there presence that couldn't quite be made out but was there nonetheless. Unlike the spirits and other evil things he was used to dealing with though, this thing seemed to hover protectively around Maggie. If he didn't know any better he'd say it was trying to keep her safe. Yeah, 'cause his driving was just _that bad_ right?

It followed them into the farmhouse. When Dean picked Maggie up and lifted her into his arms again there was the whisper of a voice around him.

"_Tell the child to run along. You and I need to speak privately…"_

That's when he knew that the thingwas what they'd been searching for.

"Hey…Jason? Tell you what… I'll get Maggie settled in if you want to check the place out? There's lots to explore around here…"

The naked hope in the kid's eyes, the excitement that came from just looking around at all the wide open space that was the farm told Dean all he needed to know.

"Dude, seriously?"

"Yeah. Just stay away from the tractors and stuff…oh, and the barn back there, the one with all the locks on the doors? Yeah, that one's off limits for now. I'll show you around a little later, okay?"

The kid just let out a loud, happy whoop of joy and took off running towards the fields where cornstalks had just recently started to sprout out of the ground.

Dean could feel something cool that felt disturbingly like a large hand on his shoulder, guiding him toward the house. "Whoa dude… no need to get all touchy-feely alright? I want to get this little girl comfortable as badly as you do. Seriously…I don't need your help on that one."

Apparently it believed him because the feeling of cool hand quickly dissipated and let him do his thing.

There wasn't much he could do for her past tucking her tight, warm and safe into bed except maybe hope that the shaking, moaning, crying fits would stop soon. For her sake as much as anyone else's.

"_What is it that you want, Hunter?"_

The voice came as Dean sat down in a chair near the bed, resigned to sitting with Maggie and waiting this thing out with her.

"Honestly? I'm not sure what you're asking me."

"_Do you not? Your friend Caitlin…she is looking for Maggie because she knows that the answer to solving her dilemma lies in helping this child. Your intentions however, are less than clear to me. So I ask you once more hunter…what is it that you want?"_

and suddenly it wasn't so clear to him either what it was he wanted out of this. When he'd first turned the Impala around and pointed it back towards Cal it had all been about helping her. Fixing this for her. Now though…with these kids in the mix… it wasn't just Cal he wanted to help. It wasn't as simple and clear cut anymore. Then there was the yellow-eyed-demon to worry about…Sam, Franny and their Dad…hell he just didn't _know_ anymore.

"_You _do_ know Dean. There is simply more to it than you originally anticipated."_

Okay and that right there? This thing getting in his head and reading his thoughts? Not cool, not cool _at all._

"Look, could you maybe just stay the hell outta my thoughts…please?"

"_You cannot fix for Caitlin what she alone has broken."_

It was as if this creature had thrown a switch inside of him by hitting the one nerve inside of Dean that was too tender to be touched, igniting the anger in him.

"The _hell_ I _can't._" Fists clenched at his sides, itching to lash out at this thing for digging deep where he'd never let anyone in to see. Frustrated because this thing hadn't shown itself yet so all he had to lash out at was this…this _voice_. He'd have given anything just to have something tangible to put his hands on.

"_I can help you in your battle against the one with the yellow eyes."_

Okay, so maybe not just the one nerve.

"You leave the demon and my family out of this! Just. _Don't. Go. There_."

"_I can…nay I will give you what you need to fight it, to repel it for a time. In return I will also give you a task to fulfill."_

"I've seen the kind of stuff you 'give' dude. Sorry but I'm not interested. I don't 'do' wings alright?"

"_I am afraid you do not have the choice of refusing my gift, hunter and I might add that not all my gifts involve feathers. I will give you what you need to banish the demon and protect your brother and his family. Caitlin will arrive soon. She will make it possible for me to use my magic to help the child again and regain her former self if she so wishes it."_

"Oh really? You think so? What if I don't want this…whatever the hell it is you want to give me?"

Because seriously? All kinds of warning bells were going off… great big loud ones insisting that this whole thing was just _wrong_. Things were going sour and he had no idea how to turn the tables again. Somewhere deep behind those warnings was the single solitary comforting thought that at least it was _him _here, doing this and getting in too deep instead of Cal.

"_I was wrong in transplanting the child into a new life as I did. Maggie needs the type of help I cannot provide. I can, and will, remove the unhealthy need she has for those toxic substances once Caitlin has restored my abilities…once that is done however the task must fall to the both of you."_

"Task?" Dean asked angrily "What task? I've gotta tell you, whatever the hell you are… I don't like being strong armed into doing stuff... and neither does Cal. God, the woman gets downright scary when she'd forced into stuff. _If, _and that's one hell of a big 'if' by the way, but _if _I hypothetically agree to whatever it is you're offering I want to know exactly what it is I'm signing myself up for."

"_Maggie needs a guide. She is broken and hurting inside. There is tremendous strength within the child that she is unable to see and cannot reach until she pieces the broken parts of herself back into some semblance of a whole again. The woman, Caitlin…she will show my Maggie how to be strong, how to overcome the pain and how defend herself should the need arise. You will protect her until she can do it for herself… That is your role, is it not? You are protector to those who cannot do it for themselves. Your brother, your father, your woman and countless others, innocents in need…I am simply adding another person to that long impressive list."_

He didn't know what to say to that. Didn't know what this thing was or how to tell it that he was already scared out of his mind that he wouldn't be able to protect the ones he loved…how the hell could he be expected to protect this kid… both of them actually because any idiot could see that Maggie and Jason were a package deal.

"_I am Fae, hunter. Presented to Maggie as 'Cassimir' as in this case I am Bringer of Peace though she has chosen to call me Casey. I do admit I prefer the shortened version of my name…though that is neither here nor there in the grand scheme of things. Do not be afraid of failing…you will succeed."_

"Yeah, sure. Easy for you to say." This fae thing was probably going to haul ass back to wherever it came from once it passed the 'protection' buck onto him so of course it would be easy for the thing to just tell him everything was gonna be okay. Dean though? He was pretty sure this Casey dude was wrong about him. How the hell was one guy supposed to keep all those people safe. He was good, he knew it…but even he had doubts about whether or not he was _that _good.

The sound of a couple of car doors slamming closed drifted up the stairs from the open kitchen doorway. Cal was back. Damn. Bobby must've caved and told her where he was headed. Okay then, not much choice _now,_ was there?

"Okay. I'll do it. Whatever the hell it is you want me to do…I'll do it on one condition: this is between you and me now. You turn Cal back to the way she was. No more wings or feathers. You change her back to her old moody, trouble making self terrible cooking and all. Your beef's with me from now on, you leave her out of it."

"_You have made a wise choice, Hunter. I will release Caitlin of her gift the moment she speaks the words that will allow me to help Maggie once more and from that moment on I will leave her be."_

Dean closed his eyes as he breathed a sigh of relief. Cal's voice was loud in his ears, coming from the stairwell now. "Dean! Don't you even _try _to hide from me. We are going to have _words_ dude…you hear me?!? _Words!_"

"_The gift I am bestowing upon you is quite a bit more potent than the one I have given to the woman. I must apologize for the discomfort it will cause."_

"Great, so what you're sayin' then is that this is gonna hurt."

"_The pain is unfortunate. If you remain calm and relaxed it will be easier to bear."_

"Just one question before we do this…a quick one because it has to be over before she finds us in here. Why did you give her wings?"

"_I gave Caitlin the chance to become the one person in the world she most wanted to be. In her case the only person she ever wanted to emulate was her mother, who was a wonderful woman in every possible way…although she hadn't thought of it seriously since childhood. The wings, I must admit, were a last minute addition for my personal amusement."_

Oh wonderful, he'd just handed himself over willingly to an overprotective fairy with a twisted sense of humor… yeah, this was going to be _real_ fun. Though, he did have to grudgingly admit that the wings (as annoying as they'd been) had been pretty entertaining really.

"What exactly is this 'gift' you're giving me anyway?"

"_It will make itself known when you need it most. The woman is near…it is time."_

_It is time_. Those three words being the only warning Dean had before the air all around him crackled like ten thousand watts of electricity searing right through him. '_Relax and remain calm _he says'. Yeah right, 'cause that was gonna happen when he felt like a lightning rod in the middle of a thunder storm.

There was no way to keep the scream in. It ripped through him just as Cal came running through the open bedroom door. He sounded like a wounded animal, screaming through the worst of it able to see nothing but the searing white light that crackled through the air. The…whatever it was…burned itself into him…could be felt from the marrow of his bones to the very tips of every last hair on his body. It lasted no more than a few seconds and went on forever until finally there was nothing but the comforting dark depths of oblivion swallowing him whole…

Cal's heart stopped when she saw him there, a crumpled, boneless mess on the carpet before her. The white shirt and black dress pants he hadn't had the chance to change out of were charred. Black and brown they stuck to his sweaty, steaming skin. His eyes were closed…and he looked…oh God he looked like he might be…

Deadly blue eyes scanned the room for the cause of this. The thing responsible for hurting _her Dean _because goddamn it except for Sam she was the _only _person allowed to lay hands on the man…and certainly not to do whatever the hell it is that thing did to him.

Margaret was lying in a little ball, covered in blankets on the bed…so it wasn't the girl then. She looked in worse shape than Dean for God's sake and that was saying an awful lot considering for all Cal could tell he was… no…just _no_…he is _not _dead!

Out of the corner of her eye she saw the air literally move, a waver in the light by the window. All of a sudden a tall man appeared out of nothing and nowhere. Tall, graceful, chiseled and beautiful with those iridescent blue eyes Cal remembered and hair so blonde it practically shone light all on its own.

She _hated _him…didn't need to know who or what he was…demon or fae, Dean's prone shape on the floor was all she needed for her to decide that she hated this great big Adonis type thing with every ounce of her being.

Blue eyes shooting daggers as sharp and deadly as the long ugly knives she'd just pulled from her boots Cal lunged. Wings spread wide, blades sharp enough to cut through cement crossed one over the other and nothing but murder on her mind as she moved.

He dissipated. Just freaking _evaporated_ into thin air again and the frustration of feeling her knives biting drywall instead of digging into something supernatural pulled a long ugly growl out of her.

"_Stop, Caitlin. He is alive."_

"What? You expect me to _believe _you? Just look at him for God's sake!"

"_No, _you_ take a good look at _him_."_

"I DON'T WANT TO LOOK AT HIM! He's _dead_ and I…God, I'm going to rip you to _shreds_ d'you HEAR ME?"

Yes, Casey thought to himself as he watched her. Angry and ready to tear him to pieces, using her grief to become stronger rather than buckling in the face of it. He'd chosen well in this one. Maggie would be just fine in this woman's hands.

* * *

_Thanks for reading, please review : )_


	15. Chapter 15

_**Chapter Fifteen**_

He'd moved. Dean had actually _moved_. Just a twitch of his hand at first (barely even a finger or two), then a leg (which stretched gingerly out from under him) until finally she realized he was now taking deep breaths and cracking open an eye. But that didn't make any kind of sense because a second ago she could've sworn he was dead…

The first thing that registered when Dean finally came to again was the smell of burnt something-or-other. He cracked open just the one eye and even then only wide enough to see where that god-awful smell was coming from.

There was a loud groan that filled the room as he took in the crispy mess that now was his only suit. The one Sam had forced him to buy just after he'd left Stanford, charred a la barbecue (thank you very much) courtesy of 'Casey the Fae's' magical mystery gift. Wonderful. Only in the twisted world of Winchester…seriously.

"Oh great…" he grumbled moodily, almost giving Cal a heart attack with just the sound of his voice. "…now I'm gonna have to go out and buy _another one._" Because…yeah. Suit shopping was just his favorite thing in the universe. Sammy was gonna have a field day with this.

Had he not decided at just that moment to scrub a hand over his face he would have seen it coming. Cal's face went momentarily soft with relief that _yes_! Thank _God_ the man was in fact alive!! And then? Well _then_ she realized just exactly had just happened. Dude had made some kind of…what? A deal maybe? Trying to save her from these wings, protect her from this fae dude? After she'd _specifically_ told him to take off, be with his family and leave her to do this herself?

So now, because she did anger so much better than she did anything else…she was _furious_. The fae completely forgotten in favor of Dean and the tongue lashing she was about to subject him to… and it wasn't the good kind either.

"Dude, you better lay the heck back down and play dead again because the way I'm feeling right now? God Dean, I'm about to make you wish you really were!"

Dean of course just rolled his eyes.

"Can't we do the angry, arguing thing later? I feel like I've just passed through a giant bug zapper."

But Cal, he knew, was never one to let things go that easily. Ever. This time was no different.

"What the hell makes you think you can just 'fix' everything for me? Seriously, what part of my being able to protect my own damned self do you _not_ understand Dean?"

"Oh, I don't know. The wings are kind of a tip off that on occasion you could use someone to protect you…from yourself anyway. Oh, and if that's not good enough for you how about we rewind things a bit to last year when Earl was after you…and the interesting fact that you can't handle the sight of your own blood? Those a good start for you Cal? 'Cause if not I've got more… "

And yeah, he was being a jerk but you know what? Being zapped by fairy magic until your insides feel like mush so you can't move enough to sit up and then getting chewed out by your girlfriend for it will do it to ya.

"I thought you were _DEAD_ Dean!"

Yeah, okay. So Dean didn't have a snappy comeback for that one. The thinking he had died part? Well, uh, as much as he hated to admit it…she sort of had a point.

She was kneeling next to him, pulling him up to sitting and propping him up against the end of the bed because God only knew he couldn't do it on his own yet which _also _did nothing for his mood.

"Well I'm _not _dead, so it's cool."

Maybe it wasn't the most suave, charming thing he'd ever said. Hell, even _he_ had to admit that the reasoning kind of sucked even though she obviously got what he was trying to say. But he was trying for comfort and someone smart once said something about it being the thought that counts…so maybe he'd get an 'A' for effort.

Apparently Cal didn't care so much about how much sense he was or wasn't making because suddenly there were her hands roaming all over his body. They were unbuttoning his shirt to check for damage, feeling the steady thump of his heartbeat as proof that he was in fact still alive and in one piece even though her eyes and his voice were already telling her as much. Small, able fingers feeling cool against his heated skin dancing their way across sinew and muscle and scar tissue as she assured herself that he wasn't going to just up and die on her again.

His hands finally moved, cupping her cheeks and her face. The pad of a thumb brushing away the one tear that fell, showing him just how near the surface her emotions really were. Damn but he hated knowing he'd played a part in putting it there in the first place.

"It's alright sweetheart, I'm still here. Told you b'fore: m'not goin' anywhere." He whispered softly in her ear. It was easy to forget that they weren't the only two people in the room as he leaned in and pulled her into his lap, closing in for the kiss he'd been waiting for since she'd brushed by him in the kitchen the day before.

She pulled back before he could though… and her eyes had changed to become an iridescent blue.

"What the hell?!?"

"_It will soon be over hunter."_

That damned voice coming from _Cal_ … and he still couldn't move more than just his arms and face. This was _not good._

"Get _out_ of her. NOW." Words spoken as forcefully, threateningly as any he'd ever uttered before in his entire lifetime. A useless effort and they both knew it. In his current state he couldn't do a damned thing to back the threat of his tone. All Dean could do was watch. Had it planned the whole thing to happen like this? He was starting to think that maybe it had. It sure had timed his being out of commission conveniently.

Cal…or no, _the fae_…Casey had Maggie curled in Cal's arms and was walking them over to the window. The screen was moving all by itself, pushed aside to lay discarded on the shingles of the roof. Then… God, then she was _flying_ and who knew that those wings actually _worked_?

Dean was crawling his ass across the bedroom floor, pulling himself up with the window frame to watch in amazement as Cal… no _Casey_ drifted to the exact middle of the front yard, a good twelve feet above the ground with wings pumping and holding them up.

A cool wind had kicked up and was swishing at Cal's hair so that it went wild, whipping around and masking her face so all he could see of it were those iridescent eyes. Maggie was lifted high into the air on two small graceful hands, as if an offering to some higher power. The two women were haloed from head to toe in a ring of bright blue-white light that just kept getting brighter and brighter until suddenly it was wrapped around them. The shape of them nothing but a dark silhouette on a backdrop of blinding light.

Dean's heart stopped. Suddenly there was no sound, no feeling, no world, no _life_ only that blinding white light wrapping everything in itself. Blocking out all sound, all emotion…everything but the two women.

It knocked him on his ass…or to his knees at least. He had no idea what in the hell was going on but he was scared for her. Casey had said he would leave her alone…had said that all she had to do was say a few words so he could touch Maggie with his magic again. He'd said a lot of things… but _this_? Whatever this was that he was doing? Yeah, _this_ wasn't one of 'em. Dean would never have agreed to this. Nuh-unh. No way.

One thing was for damned sure…if he hurt her, if there was even the tiniest little scratch anywhere on her body that hadn't already been there…well he'd tap into whatever the hell it was Casey had given him and make that fae wish it had never met _any_ of them.

Almost as soon as it had come the light was gone. Cal was lying on the lush green carpet of grass that was the front yard, Maggie wrapped protectively in her arms as if she were nothing but a small child. They were both so completely still…clearly unconscious even from where Dean was kneeling two stories above the ground.

He was taking the stairs two at a time on wobbly legs that could barely hold him up but he didn't care. Cal was just lying there and he needed to get to her. Needed to know she was breathing, feel the blood pulsing in her veins because he just couldn't handle it if she wasn't. Couldn't handle her leaving if where she was going turned out to be someplace he couldn't follow her.

The kitchen was empty…or he thought it was anyway, when he fell and wound up on his ass again right in the middle of it. Jason materialized out of nowhere though so apparently it wasn't as empty as he'd thought it to be. Two small hands were helping him back up and onto his feet again and Bobby's arm wound its way under one of his shoulders and across his back to help him along.

It didn't take long. By the time his bare feet touched grass his strength was starting to come back…mostly and he felt stronger with every step. This time when he fell to his knees it was intentional, so that he could check for signs of life.

Maggie was breathing the slow and deep breath of someone sleeping peacefully. A far cry from the moaning and shaking that had been going on upstairs earlier.

"Hey, Bobby? Could you… could you take her upstairs, maybe get Jace to give you a hand settling her in again?"

Dean didn't have to ask because Bobby was already lifting the girl into his burly arms, Jason holding the hand that had fallen to her side.

Gentle callused fingers brushed silky soft hair off Cal's face. She was lying on her back, eyes closed and smiling as if she'd fallen asleep watching the puffy white clouds float in the clear blue sky above them. Dean was panicking because he couldn't tell if her chest was moving at all, couldn't feel a pulse in her past his own rushing through his veins and pounding in his ears. He didn't dare lift her into his arms like he wanted to _needed to _because he didn't want to hurt her…

The voice came to him again on the next rush of cool air deep and melodious. Almost beautiful, except that Dean refused to tag anything male with that particular compliment. Especially when the owner of said voice had done…well whatever it was that it had done to Cal.

"_It is done, hunter. My sincerest apology for having scared you as I did. Caitlin would not have spoken the words any other way. You must have known as much. I am placing my Maggie in your capable hands now. I trust you will keep your end of our bargain?"_

Well the damned thing was out of his girl, at least _that_ was something.

"If you hurt her, with that little stunt you just pulled…" it was an open ended threat, one that Casey actually had the nerve to laugh at.

"_She will be perfectly fine however I fear you may soon come to regret having made your request that she be returned to her former self. Your Caitlin is many things, hunter. Not the least of which include bravery, strength and faithfulness. Unfortunately for you 'amenable' is not one of them."_

"So that's it then? You zap me to within a inch of my life, you do…well whatever the hell _that just was_ to Cal and Maggie…and now you're just going to take off and leave?"

Because he could live with that arrangement. Really, he could. Anything for this thing to leave and quit messing with their lives and bodies like this well, except for those nagging doubts he refused to voice about not being able to keep everyone safe.

"_I will be watching. If our arrangement works out as well as I believe it will… well, let us simply say that my debt of gratitude will not easily be repaid. Rest assured Dean of the Winchesters, you are not alone in all of this. Your allies lie in wait and will be found in the most unexpected of places." _

The cool wind dissipated then and Casey's voice along with it, replaced with the mildly humid heat of early summer. It…he… the fae was gone leaving Dean to pick up the pieces.

Cal was… she was just _lying there _and scaring the hell out of him. There was something different about her too…though what exactly that was he couldn't tell. Was it possible to make someone breathe by just _willing it _hard enough? Dean would… if he could.

Except that now she was moving beneath him, grumpily batting his frantic hands away like they were the most annoying things in the universe right that second.

"Get _offa me _ya big caveman."

She was all but growling at him and then he was laughing…and no, those were _not _tears in his eyes… okay, well maybe they _were_ tears (of relief) but if they didn't _fall_ then they didn't _count_…or, you know, _exist_ so no way was he going to admit to them. Period.

Dean was pulling her in, insistent arms far too strong for her to fight off as weak as she felt right then. He had… god the man had _tears_ in his eyes and the realization floored her. He was alive…which was a relief after finding him unconscious and extra crispy in the spare bedroom upstairs…which brought on the a new interesting question: how the hell had she wound up in the middle of her front yard?

"Dean, uh, what am I doing in the yard?"

"You, um, flew out here. From the window upstairs"

Oh, well… that was a good answer. Wait, did he just say she _flew_?

Right… 'cause now it was all coming back to her. Not a good thing for that fae, let me tell you, because Cal now had the sudden urge to kick some serious…

"Cal? You're not gonna hit me or anything are you? 'Cause you've got that _look _going on and I've already been charred pretty good by a freaking fairy. I'm not really interested in getting a black eye or something too."

He was met by that wide, slightly evil grin of hers and actually leaned back a little…ready to run if the need arose.

"No Dean, I'm not going to hit you…though don't think for one second that I don't think you deserve it, because _I do_… but no, right now it's that damned fae I want a piece of. _You_ I'll deal with later."

Well, he wasn't an expert or anything but that kind of sounded…ominous. Tread carefully man, you are on some _thin ice _here.

"Uh…well Casey, um, left a minute ago…and I don't think you'll be able to find him anytime soon…"

"Wait…who's Casey?"

"The fairy-fae-thing you exorcised. Cassimir actually, but Maggie likes to call him Casey so that's what he told me to call him…" Yeah, sure…because using little girl's pet names for some fairy dude was just about as normal a situation as you could get right?

Cal was looking at him strangely, with a little glint in her eye that he was sure he ought to have recognized but couldn't quite place for some reason…

"and Maggie would be _Margaret _right?"

"Yeah…" Still on that adrenaline-slash-joy high from finding Cal alive Dean wasn't getting it. Usually there'd be kissing by now right? Lots of "you scared the living hell outta me, _don't ever_ do that again!!" followed by, well to be honest lots of make-up 'glad to be alive' type sex. But she was still sitting there in his arms looking like she wanted to deck him instead of…

"So, let me get this straight… you sneak around, stealing on my leads on this case. _My _case by the way, you know…just for the record here. You get Bobby in on it and have him run me around in circles on a wild goose chase instead of helping me out. Then… _then _you skulk off with the only lead that would get me anywhere, _use _an eight year old _kid_ to get to the girl I'm looking for… my only connection to that damned fairy... and as if all that isn't enough already you call on this thing and have a little chat with it. Get on a first name basis, no wait… a _pet name _basis and end up charcoal on the floor of our guestroom."

Oh. Right.

There was that, wasn't there?

"Hey! I didn't skulk… I don't skulk! _And _I was trying to help…trying to _protect _you. That's got to count for _something_ here." No way was he going down on this without putting up a good fight.

"HA! Tell that to your only suit there Mr. Extra Crispy. How exactly is it that you came to be charred like that anyway? You insult the things momma or something?"

"No…not exactly."

"What? What is it that you're not telling me _this time_ Dean?" Yeah, because she wasn't the kind to hold stuff back herself there.

"Well…" and to his surprise he couldn't _not_ tell her what had happened. Just charged right into it like he was pumped full of some weird ass truth serum or something. "… I might've made a sort of a deal with Casey."

"Oh?" How did she make one word sound like so many different things? This time it happened to convey impending death depending on his answer. Yeah, this was so _not _going to be any fun. At least not for Dean anyway. Cal was probably going to have a grand old time.

"Yeah…he uh, gave me some kind of mystery gift that's supposed to make it possible for us to get rid of the demon when the time comes. In exchange… well he, uh, kinda made me promise to keep Maggie and her brother safe. I got him to throw in turning you back to normal and leaving you alone in as part of the deal."

It was the way he said that last part that got to her. His proud tone speaking louder than his words as if to say 'how good am I, huh babe? Sweetening the deal by talking that thing into fixing you like that.'

"Well okay then. I guess I can live with that last part…" she sounded more than a little irritated now, and he was beginning to see _why_ "except that I _still _have _feathers _growing out of my back."

Hm. Yeah. Slight problem… minor detail… but there was an upside though right? There was always an upside Dean thought. Weird really, because it wasn't really like him to be so positive.

"Well…yeah. I can see how that's a problem…but let's stay focused on the upside here."

"Oh? Please then, enlighten me on this 'upside' 'cause from where I'm standing things aren't looking so good."

He turned on that blinding smile of his, just before delivering the punch line. "You might still have the wings…but at least you can still cook right?"

Dean barely felt the slap… though he was pretty sure it could be heard three towns over, she'd hit him so hard. Couldn't feel it because of that smile of his, the one that had been plastered all over his face by her reaction. That right there? Was proof. Proof that she was already getting back to her former self… and _god _was it _ever_ good to know. So good in fact that he was laughing and the tears that fell freely now were all about mirth. Nothing but sheer unabashed joy.

It was infectious apparently because soon Cal was laughing too. Long, hard and hearty because really? Between raging and crying out the emotion that she couldn't stop from overflowing and laughing it out with Dean…well laughter was definitely the better option here.

"Are they okay Bobby?" Jason asked the older man from the spot by the window that had been Dean's just a short while earlier. Bobby just put a hand on the boy's shoulder and smiled down fondly at him.

"Those two? Oh I wouldn't worry about them kid… it's the rest of the world you ought a be concerned about. Ain't nothin' gonna prepare people for _those _two."

Cal and Dean weren't the only one's laughing just then… though Bobby's gruff barking laugh was drowned out by the younger folks out in the yard. A sound which Casey carried with him on the wind he rode. A little something to warm his heart on the long journey ahead and to justify the actions he'd taken to the others upon his return to the land of his birth.

He'd made the right choice in those two.


	16. Chapter 16

_**Chapter Sixteen**_

Jack was _pissed off._ He'd been sitting in the small five-by-five cell for days now plotting the ways he would take his revenge.

First he was gonna hunt down that girl with the wings. She'd taken Fran away so she was gonna be the first to find out just how pissed off he really was. He'd keep the chic with the wings around for awhile. Have a little fun with her when he got bored of his own woman.

Then he'd get that Dean guy. The one that'd just stood by and watched while Sam beat the crap outta him. Yeah, Dean was as good as dead. He'd make Sam watch, before he killed him too.

"Hey Jack!" There was a guard at the cell door. "You've got a visitor."

Great. Probably his buddy Pat with the money to post bail. Took him long enough.

Imagine his surprise when he stepped into the interrogation room that doubled as visitation space and found a woman standing there. A petite brunette with all the right curves and the shortest little skirt he'd ever seen.

"Jack! Long time no see. Looks like you've been a busy boy since our last little meeting."

There was a warning flash of yellow as he opened his mouth to explain.

"I stopped by your house Jack. Imagine my surprise when I found it empty."

He was backing up towards the door in fear. No telling what this thing would do to him.

"It wasn't my fault, I swear it wasn't. These Winchester guys just showed up out of nowhere… and some chick with wings took her away."

Perfectly manicured fingers reached up to touch the bruising he had all over his face, Sam's violent signature. Daily reminder of the all-encompassing anger he'd inspired by hurting a girl. Jack's current incentive to plot revenge.

"Winchesters huh? Yeah, I'll buy that. Looks like Dean's work."

"Not Dean. I mean, the dude was there but it was the other guy who hit me. Sam… the guy Fran hooked up with." Jack scowled angrily.

The woman did a double take. "Sam did this to you? Well now, isn't that interesting? He's usually the peacemaker of the two."

"Yeah well, he was pretty pissed off that I roughed my girl up to put her in her place. Especially when he found out she's pregnant."

He stood tall, proud and cocky before this tiny wisp of a woman who could have broken him in half with just a thought.

"You told them about the child?" To anyone else the woman would have seemed disinterested, almost bored. Jack knew better though. She was pissed…or rather the thing inside of her was pissed. Nothing good ever came of that.

"Yeah..."

One word and his fate had been sealed.

There was an earth shattering shriek as the black cloud left her body and hovered in the air above her prone shape on the floor.

Jack was standing over her, head bowed and back to the door when the guards came rushing in a moment later.

"Hands up where we can see 'em Jack and turn around slowly."

"Oh, I don't think you really want me to do that man." Damned if the pitch of his voice was two shades lower than usual.

"Get 'em up or we'll shoot." Because apparently they really _did_ want him to do it. Okay then, fine by him really. He was all for a little fun.

They weren't expecting it. Two of the three guards (the ones on either side) flew backwards, backs hitting the concrete wall and knocked unconscious from the impact. The other stood his ground, gun at the ready. Clueless as to what just happened and scared as hell but standing his ground just the same. Idiot.

Jack turned slowly, lifting his head and bringing his arms down to his sides again. The guard wanted to turn and run when he saw the bright yellow eyes and evil smile. Couldn't move, but wanted to…until his hands started moving of their own volition. He was staring down the barrel of his own gun when it went off.

The demon was whistling merrily to himself minutes later while the video cameras followed him as he left the building. Jack might have failed to maintain his end of their little deal…but the demon sure wouldn't. Those Winchesters had a thing or two coming to them and he was about to deliver it to them personally.

* * *

The farther they got from Jack and the more time she spent with Sam the more she remembered. At first it had just been short flashes of memory. Dreamlike bits of things that she and Sam had been through together.

Yesterday in the car though they started becoming less like dreams and more like actual memories. Then it wasn't just Sam… it was Cal tossing people into the mirror behind her bar…it was watching her mother cook as a child, and her father serve up beer to the locals while she and her sister played with the juke box or sang karaoke. Jigsaw puzzle pieces falling into place bumping each other around and trying to fit into a larger whole.

The strain that she was feeling from the emotional overload was weighing heavily. Had her doubting everything she knew and she was discovering that doubt was not a feeling that sat well with her. Added to that were the countless hours she'd spent cramped in a truck cab with two enormous Winchesters and a pastor who were all packing weapons in case this yellow-eyed demon thing came back for her.

She was hungry, she was tired and she was unarmed. Okay, so given her current mood that last one was probably a good thing… but it left her cranky as all hell. Was it too much to ask to have the means to defend herself if the thing _did_ decide to show itself?

So when John finally pulled into the truck stop so they could finally get some food and rest sometime past midnight she was more than a little cranky… and yeah, that's when the snark started to come back.

John, being the wise man that he was, suggested they just rent a couple of rooms for the night and order take out from the restaurant in the interest of staying under the radar. He was pretty transparent though seeing as she was pretty sure he just didn't want to deal with her bitchiness.

Sam though? Well, if the laughter was any indication he seemed to be getting one hell of a kick out of her current moodiness. Of course, given their history he also knew what to do to make her feel better. It still felt strange to have someone thinking about what she wanted for a change. Strange, but good. By the time Sam pulled her into the comfort of his arms as they drifted off to sleep a couple of hours later she'd managed to relax enough to sleep.

They'd expected the process of regaining her memory to be gradual. Hadn't really been all that surprised at her request to be called Kate because that was what she believed her name to be. So far it had been a smooth transition, at least from what they'd seen. Nothing could have prepared them for it though. The return of her past in one great tidal wave.

On that third morning back, their second one on the road, Fran woke up completely disoriented and fully herself for the first time in weeks. She remembered _everything_ and _boy _was she angry!

Sam's snoring woke her from a dreamless sleep just after dawn. Not exactly unpleasant except for the fact that she'd hoped to get another couple of hours before they hit the road again.

It was as if she'd run smack into a brick wall.

Her eyes had popped open and she'd swung herself out of bed so quickly that it startled Sam awake. Pajama clad and uncaring of the way she looked she stalked out the motel room door and over to the truck with one goal in mind. She wanted her shotgun, she wanted her baseball bat and she wanted Jack's ass in her face right the hell _now _because _no one _did that to her and got away with it.

By the time Sam raced out after her she'd picked the lock to the cab and was carelessly tossing weaponry to the ground on either side of her. An angry lionesse with her mane gone shaggy and wild around her, murder in the depths of otherwise gentle, caring eyes.

"Where are they? He brought them, I know he did. Saw him put them back here before we left the farm. Where'd he put them?" Cal had handed John a bag that had looked familiar before they left. Now she knew why.

"Put what Kate?" Sam's voice was gruff and raw from sleep and he was talking to her with the same care a person would take in the presence of an angry wild animal and in all fairness that's exactly what she was right then. The knowledge only made her angrier.

"My _name_ is _Fran_. Don't call me Kate, don't _ever_ call me Kate again okay? I want my gun… my gun and my bat. I know you brought them…just can't find them."

He was staring at her now. Hazel eyes gone wide and brownish in, his mouth hanging open in surprise as he stood there barefoot in the middle of the parking lot. Fran? She wanted to be called _Fran _now? Did that mean…? She must've… did she remember it all now?

"Listen, honey…as much as I love the sight of you all stunned, scruffy and wearing nothing but a pair of boxers and a t-shirt I kind of need you to focus here."

"So… does this mean you…"

"Yes Sam. I remember. All of it." And just the glimpse of the faded bruising that still wasn't quite gone from her face reflected back at her in the truck's rear window was enough to send another hot wave of anger jolting through her. Dude was gonna _pay_ for that.

A blink…just one…and suddenly the short distance between them had been breached and her feet were floating somewhere a good foot from the ground. Strong familiar arms held her tightly to a broad chest as Sam attempted to do the impossible and literally wrap himself around her. Fran always had been a sucker for those arms of his. Couldn't help wrapping her own around him too as he frantically whispered words of relief. _Thank God… missed you so much…took so long to find you…was so worried…broke my heart to find you like that…so sorry it took so long…so glad you're back baby…_

They were holding on to each other for dear life, riding out the tidal wave of emotions that crashed through them.

John was watching them through the window with a smile of his own. It was a small victory over the thing that had taken so much from them…so much from Sam specifically. A battle won: Fran was home.

"Jim? You better toss me that bag Cal sent along. I think the girl's finally ready for what's inside." An impressive looking sawed off shotgun and a battle scarred baseball bat worn smooth with use.

* * *

Dean was conscious long before he'd expected to be. Woke with a bit of a start when someone turned the TV on in the living room below them. Had to be Jason. He didn't know much about kids or teenagers but he didn't figure Maggie to be much of a Spiderman fan.

He was startled again by the sound of the shower starting down the hall. Great, the bathroom had just been taken over by a teenage girl. Why did he get the feeling that he was about to suffer karmic retribution for all those times he'd used up all the hot water on Sam?

There was a loud clunk when she dropped something in there and it made him jump, embarrassingly enough. These kids had him on edge. The responsibility he'd been handed felt heavy and awkward like it didn't quite fit.

You should probably get up, Winchester. Those two'll probably be hungry and there are things that'll need to get sorted out today... somehow he didn't think hunting yellow eyed demonic freaks was something Maggie and Jason should tag along for.

But it was still so early… like nine in the morning? Dude, there's just something wrong about being up by nine two days in a row. Breakfast could wait a few more minutes, right? Plus there was this warm, curvaceous body curled up beside him. Cal's back tucked in against his chest, her arm over his as she twined their fingers together. Took him a minute to figure out that something was different there… something was missing.

The wings were gone. They'd disappeared as mysteriously as they had appeared while Cal slept soundly through the night. The pang of regret came as a surprise. There was just something about those downy soft feathers… not to mention that Martha Stewart complex she'd had. God the _food_! Okay…okay…so he was all stomach. He was man enough to admit it. It was hard not to love that food though and yeah, he'd miss that part for sure.

Running a callused hand over her bare back now smooth where there once had been wings he watched the goose bumps rise and the sinew of muscle twitch from the unexpected contact. He could tell from the look on her face just exactly what was on her mind. Something along the lines of _grumble grumble Winchester, butt crack of dawn, too damned early to be awake grumble grumble doesn't stop trying to wake me up m'gonna put the hurt on someone._

As much as he was gonna miss the perks to the whole wings thing Dean had to admit it was good to have her back. The grin was automatic when her sleep-roughened voice ground out the words he'd just imagined going through her mind.

"So She-Ra, this mean you're not cookin' breakfast today?" Smooth man. Real smooth. Cal's response told him she was right back to her normal self too.

"Mmph!" Something that could've either been a grunt or a growl an elbow jab to avoid. So…that was a 'no' then wasn't it?

"Hey Cal?" He was running a gentle finger tip all the way up and down her spine knowing full well what it did to her. Feeling smug as she shivered with each change of direction.

"Mm?" Her eyes still weren't open but she seemed to be with him, or listening at least. What little bit of an attention span she had was focused on that finger and the gravelly voice that accompanied it.

"You awake yet?" He asked hopefully, kissing the soft skin where her jaw met the arch of her neck.

"No dude, m'so _not_ 'wake. _Too early_ t'be 'wake yet."

His laughter was rich and warm in her ear. She was caught somewhere between aroused and annoyed. It was way to damned early for people to be happy.

"If'you're gonna pull a perky morning person on me and stuff, better be makin' coffee…m'not 'wake 'nough yet t'be s'ponsible for m'actions." Meaning of course that if he kept laughing at her grumpy, sleepy state his life might end up on the line…probably already was.

"That mean I'm allowed to touch the coffee maker again?"

There was a subtle shift of blankets and a slight dip of the mattress beneath them as Cal moved slow and careful as if she were hung over. She was a sneaky one that girl. He didn't realize just how sneaky until he was eating a face full of the pillow she hit him with. Apparently the girl was a little more awake then she was letting on. Her reflexes weren't usually so good first thing in the morning…at least not unless they'd been awake all night hunting.

"Coffee?" The white flag of surrender in a word, peace offering to the grumpy goddess.

"Coffee!" Surrender accepted with that same simple word, spoken as a command as the body curled into itself once more and began to drift back to sleep.

Man but it was good to know things were back to normal around here!

A distinctly childlike giggle drifted up the stairs as the thought formed reminding Dean that okay, maybe things weren't quite normal yet… but Cal was and that? Well it was enough for him because honestly? Dean Winchester just doesn't _do_ normal.

* * *

Screaming, oh god! Someone was screaming long and loud. What in the _hell _was going on? Shrieking bursts of it over and over again shaking Sam to his very core…and there was no mistaking it. The screaming? Yeah, it was human. Man or woman? Impossible to tell but human for sure. Human…and familiar…and… wait! It wasn't just _one_ voice. It was two…at least.

Lights were flashing behind his closed lids as waves of burning pain washed through him and suddenly everything went white. The painful throbbing in his head struck its beat in time with the screaming until he was sure it would going to explode. Then, just like that everything around him came sharply into focus. The farmhouse, Dean writhing in pain on the ground. Sam's blood ran cold at the sight. Well now he knew where it was coming from. Cal was running towards him, palming her knives and screaming for blood… but she wasn't the one screaming as if she was dying. _Dean _was.

Something snapped. He could hear it clearly…feel everything inside loosen as he made his decision. The yellow eyed demon. Sam could feel it somewhere near. The only explanation for the writhing mass of blood and pain that was Dean on the ground and the feeling of it so close felt like sandpaper being dragged over his skin. That was _it_…no more! The damned thing was going down and Sam really didn't care what he had to do to finish it off. No way it was ever going to hurt anyone ever again!

Except that just as he started to reach within himself, began to tap in to that place he'd tried so hard to deny for so long and touch the raw power that awaited him there the throbbing in his head intensified.

He was on his knees now, blinking furiously through the haze that had wrapped itself around him. Voices in his ears again… his father's barking, angry voice tellinghim…_ordering _him to be okay. Jim's chanting a protective prayer. Fran's asking him if he was okay, her hands on his face brushing the hair out of his eyes and gently rubbing along his bearded jawline. Comforting him, or trying to anyway.

Any other time it would have worked but Dean… Dean wasn't there and that scared the hell out of him after what he'd just seen.

"Dad?" Those hazel eyes had changed over the past month. Something in them had hardened, reflected there in their depths was a determination that hadn't been there before. The stubborn set of his jaw covered in neatly trimmed thick black hair was unsettling to see. John could have been looking at himself twenty odd years earlier. Sam looked… fierce. His son had become a man, a soldier and from what he could now see there was a fight on the horizon. One that Sam apparently intended them to win.

"We need to head back. The farmhouse. I… it's Dean."

There was nothing more to say really. They were headed back, details and game plans would be hashed out on the way. Dean was in trouble and the demon was involved. That's all any of them needed to know.

The demon had a plan of it's own though. Which was the reason why it had decided to head back to Jack's place. This little meat puppet was amazing. So violent…and angry… and he came equipped with his very own plan for revenge against the Winchester boys and their little pet Caitlin O'Sulivan. That one would be fun to destroy. It remembered her grandfather… had gone up against the man a time or two back in the day. Had a debt or two to repay in blood…and it wouldn't be Jack's.

So now it was time to plan because once the demon had what it wanted there would be nothing to stand in it's way. Whatever happened loosing was not an option. There was only one Winchester he was interested in keeping alive now. The sooner it regained control the better.

* * *

The smell of brewing coffee was what finally convinced Cal to drag her tired butt out of bed. It felt good to be able to curl up into a ball again and wrap herself in blankets without having to worry about get her wings tangled in them. Felt good to not feel the compulsion to make breakfast for everyone too. Ugh, just thinking about the whole Barbie/ Martha Stewart thing was enough to make her wish she had amnesia…well almost. There had been that one pleasant discovery she'd made… Dean's apparent fondness of Victoria's Secret angels… that brought on a rare sight. Cal didn't usually smile before coffee. Ever. But that had been one hell of a night and there was a first time for everything.

She didn't need to go downstairs to know there was something different about that Winchester today. First clue had been the lack of men's dirty clothing strewn all over the bedroom. Dude had actually taken the time to pick everything up and toss it all into the hamper for a change. That alone had Cal rethinking her recent distaste for all things fairy-like.

Something other than coffee smelled good too, which was her second clue. Were those eggs? And _bacon?_ Not that Dean couldn't cook or anything but left to his own devices the man would live on take out and fast food. He barely bothered with more than cereal in the morning unless someone else was cooking. Now the guy was making breakfast? _This _she had to see for herself.

The tv was on in the living room but from the sounds of giggling in the kitchen morning cartoons had been abandoned completely. Who would have ever thought Dean would be a good source of entertainment for a couple of kids? Okay, well maybe it wasn't that far a stretch…

The guy was standing over the stove…(omelets! That's what smelled so good! Dude was making omelets with cheese, bacon and…wow. Vegetables. Since when did the guy know what vegetables were?) Jason was sitting on the counter next to him watching him cook.

Maggie was there too. Freshly showered and apparently making a fruit salad as she ogled Dean from behind. Cal couldn't help the grin as she listened to him talk. Unbeleivable! Such a homey, wholesome scene… and the guy was telling dirty jokes. Yeah. That was her Winchester all right.

"Hey Jace, stop me if you've heard this one already okay?" Yeah right, like that was a possibility. "A priest, a monk and a rabbi walk into a bar…" Oh no! No way. She'd heard that one before alright and yeah, it was funny and all… but she was pretty sure it wasn't the kind of thing an eight year old (or a sixteen year old for that matter) ought to be subjected to.

"DUDE!" yup, desired effect achieved. It was hard to stifle her own decidedly giddy giggle as he nearly jumped out of his skin in surprise. She had to hand it to him though… the guy was quick on the recovery.

"Well, look who decided to joint the land of the living. Did sleeping beauty get enough shut eye, or should we be running away right about now?"

She waggled a finger at him and stole a piece of bacon.

"Don't go trying to change the subject Winchester. I just caught you telling dirty jokes, the kind you usually hear in army barracks mind you, to an _eight year old._ You oughta be ashamed of yourself."

One look. One look from the guy and she knew what was gonna come out of his mouth next and it was something along the lines of 'what can I say, I'm a bad, bad man' and that was so very much not something these kids needed to hear. Jeeze, sure she'd been stuck with the wings but it looked like Dean ought to be sporting a matching pair of horns and a pointy red tail. Dude was full of mischief this morning.

"If you think that's bad…"

"Don't say it!" The warning echoed clearly in the flash of her eyes. "Not unless you want to get reacquainted with the wicked left…"

He answered her with a cup of coffee and a conspiring wink in Jason's direction. "She Ra's a little cranky in the morning." He whispered to the boy. Interesting the way he was willing to lay his life on the line like that… and he completely ignored the inquiring arched brow Cal sent his way.

She would have lit into him right then and there…except that the phone started ringing.

"Better pick it up Cal. It's Sam."

Sure enough the hello that came from the other end of the line was rough and familiar. Now, how the hell did Dean know who it was? She would have chalked it up to a lucky guess but he'd been too sure of himself for that to have been it.

"Cal? Is Dean there with you?" Anxiety and fear tinged words. A question desperately needing an answer.

"Yeah Sam. He's here. What's up?"

"We're headed back. I… Cal, it's not good. Something big's coming your way. The demon… I think it's after Dean…" and wasn't it just the most perfect timing that his cell cut out before he could explain?

Dean was staring at her as she handed him the receiver.

"You were right. It was Sam. His phone cut out but…you better call him back. It's about your 'friend'…from _down south. _Looks like he might be planning to pay us a visit…"

It was as subtle as she could get without actually mentioning the word 'demon' in front of the kids. Last thing they needed was to get the kids all freaked out and thinking she and Dean were crazy. It was a good call too because a set of wings and an over protective celtic fae were hard enough to wrap your head around… Maggie and Jason were already starting to pretend like it had never happened. Seemed to think it was all part of some freaky dream. No way they'd be able to deal with the concept of demonic possession.

"Well that was fast." Sure he'd been expecting it… just not this quickly, and sure as hell not with a teenager and a kid around.

"Take this over for me? I better call him back."

He wasn't sure how he knew this had something to do with Sam's visions but he was sure that he needed to talk to his brother. Find out exactly what it was he'd seen. Those visions of his were never anything good and if the demon was headed straight for them he'd need as much detail as Sam could give him.

He had a job to do. A responsibility. There were lives in his hands (and weren't there always?) No way that yellow eyed hell spawn was gonna get anywhere near the people he was protecting.

"Dean? Thank God you're okay!" His brother's worried voice did nothing to calm the mounting anger within him at just the thought of the demon having the sheer nerve to try and touch his family.

"Talk to me Sammy. The vision. Tell me everything."

They were going to win this one.

_Dean _was going to kick some demon ass and win this one.

It was about damned time that the Winchester side of this war came out on top.

* * *

_Thx for reading, please review : )_


	17. Chapter 17

_**Chapter Seventeen**_

_This_…this right here was exactly what she'd needed. The hard, rounded feel of the steering wheel in her hands, the growl of the truck's engine all around her as she urged it on that little bit faster telling her it _wanted_ to go for her. Wanted to get them there _faster_. Little yellow lines sped by, slipping soundlessly past big wheels as John's monster of a truck ate up the miles. It wasn't a miracle that finally got her the drivers' seat, though she'd thought for sure it would take one to get her there. Turns out necessity worked just as well.

So far they'd been treating her like some fragile thing on the verge of breaking…even now that she knew who she was. Now that she finally had a firm grip on reality, who she really was it seemed they were just that much more cautious. Then there'd been the vision. Sam falling to his knees, grunting with the force of it, eyes tearing from the pain as he fought against the onslaught. It had scared the hell out of all of them, it being the first time any of them had seen him in the throes of one. He'd pushed himself hard though. Staying conscious long enough to call Dean, to warn him. Long enough to put together a plan of action.

And now? Well, now she was the only one in any shape to drive. Sam was unconscious, mercifully so considering the pain that vision thing of his had left him in. John wouldn't let him get anywhere out of physical reach, just in case he'd said. Say whatever you wanted to about the guy, he was a great father. Couldn't be anything less in her eyes now that she'd seen him sit in the backseat of his own truck for hours, cradling his grown sons' unconscious body against his own and anxiously checking for signs of life whenever Sam got too quiet for his liking…which was like every couple of minutes.

So yeah, John couldn't drive either and Jim? Well he'd been driving about seven hours already when he'd pulled the truck over and asked her to take the wheel. She'd pulled a blanket over his sleeping form about a half hour later. Funny…she'd hadn't figured the pastor to be a snoring kind of guy.

John's truck was an awesome machine. Truth be told she preferred it to Dean's Impala by a long shot. It reminded her of her own little beater of a truck. The one she built up from scrap metal after that first go 'round with Jack. Another memory tinged by that…God, there just weren't any words strong enough to describe what she thought of the guy. She was glad…so very glad to be headed home… and she'd be even happier once she got the chance to lay hands on the man who'd caused her face to turn black and blue. The demon she'd leave to the Winchesters…Jack though? Jack was all hers.

* * *

"Look, it just seems to me that if we're supposed to be keeping these kids safe then we should keep them close. I just don't see how sending them on a three day drive into a whole other country is going to help us protect them Dean."

They'd been arguing about this back and forth all day, this idea of Dean's to send the kids away until this was all over. Cal was dead set against it. He'd known she would be knowing what she did about his deal with Casey, but that was okay because he also knew he was right. Maggie and Jason would be safest in Kansas far away from this fight of theirs.

"So what then? You think they'll be safe if we keep 'em here? With that thing coming after us? Coming after _me_?" That was just plain ridiculous because when it came to the yellow eyed demon there was no such thing as safe. Especially if you were, or you had anything to do with the Winchester family. Cal though? Well she apparently saw things differently.

"_Yeah_, actually. What if it changes its mind and goes after them? Or after Missouri? Last time you guys went up against the damn thing it went after Jim and Caleb. Don't think I don't know it's nothing short of a miracle they managed to survive either. Your Dad told me all about it, _had to_ after I asked him about Jim's scar. There's just no _way_ we can keep them safe if we have to hop a plane just to _get_ to them."

Well that was just _perfect_ wasn't it? Figures she'd know about Meg's little demonic exploits. And yeah, maybe she had a point about the distance though it was more like a three day drive to get to them (because there was just _no way_ he was getting on a damned plane again) but she didn't know that because she also didn't know about his little problem with flying. The demon wasn't going to go after Missouri or the kids though. There was no reason for it to go there. It didn't even know they existed, at least not yet. They'd be as far off the radar as they could get.

"Missouri's different. She's not a hunter for one, and those powers of hers…she'll be able to feel the demon coming if it does decide to pay her a visit. Gives her an advantage we don't have."

He had a point. A good point actually but Cal still didn't like it. They already had that demon to fight off… what if Casey found out they sent Maggie and Jason away? Dude might think that Dean was trying to get out of that deal they'd made.

"Okay, so why don't we all go down there then? Safety in numbers and all that jazz. They'll be even safer with five seasoned hunters as escorts." And that fairy guy would stay happy…meaning she'd get to stay wingless and Dean wouldn't have to get zapped again, or worse.

"We've been through this already. Whatever's gonna to happen it's gonna happen here. This is where we need to be." Calm certainty. God, the guy was as steady and immovable as a freaking rock! Frustrating much?

"You don't know that Dean!" A furious whisper, because to yell at him like she _really _wanted to would be to let on to the kids that they were arguing. Given the lives they'd led so far it wouldn't do much to instill confidence in their newfound protectors, would it?

"Actually sweetheart, I do." Damned Dean! Had an answer for everything that one, and God was it _ever_ pissing her off! Stubborn son of a….

"Oh really? How's that? You suddenly sprout psychic 'I see into the future' type powers overnight or something?" It came out a sarcastic snort, skepticism dripping off every word. Those narrowed blue eyes held something else though. They studied him as if trying to determine if that was actually the case. Good thing too considering Dean had his own suspicions about that particular theory.

"I knew it was Sam calling earlier didn't I?" He _had _too, from the very first ring. The knowledge had come to him just the same as if he'd watched his brother walk into the room.

"Could've been a lucky guess." Sarcasm quickly replaced with wariness. Maybe he was right… pretty obvious though that she really wished he wasn't.

"Yeah well it wasn't Cal. Can't explain how I knew but I did. Just like I know those two need to get the hell out of Dodge until this is all over. Just like I know we need to be _here _to face that demon!"

And now there it was. Dean was using the 'won't back down' card and that was one hand she'd never been able to beat.

"I'm not going to be able to change your mind on this one am I?" It came out quietly on a defeated sigh as she crossed her arms over her chest.

He stood perfectly still now, knowing how hard this was for her. Giving her the time she needed to work it out for herself. Didn't take long. It never did.

"Okay then. I guess we're doing this."

"Knew you'd see it my way She Ra." There was that grin, the one that was pure mischief. The one only a trouble maker like Dean could convincingly pull off.

"Yeah, yeah Winchester. Just don't be getting too attached to this 'doing things your way' stuff." And she was back to the moody grumbling, which only made that smile grow wider.

"Oh, I'm pretty sure you'll do your best to make sure I won't."

Dude, you have no idea.

* * *

The scanner came to life as the truck rolled into Ottawa on the 417. There were Ontario Provincial Police everywhere…apparently there'd been an escape from the penitentiary, first one in a decade and the guy was still on the loose. The local cops were frantically trying to find the guy. He'd killed three men, all cops and beat a woman before taking a police cruiser and disappearing into the night.

Well it was nice to know they weren't the only ones with larger than life problems, though Fran was pretty sure that this guy would be easier to deal with than this demon they were about to go up against.

A woman's monotone voice took over, most likely the dispatcher, was droning out a physical description of the guy. Six foot tall, two hundred and ten pounds, sandy brown hair cut long enough to reach his ears and the nape of his neck in waves, blue eyes…and a large colorful snake tattoo over his left shoulder blade.

It was the screech of the tires that woke Sam, the stuttering of the engine as the keys were wrenched out of the ignition that woke Jim and the heavy rocking of the entire truck as Fran pulled it to a stop on the side of the road that had John swearing as they were jostled around in their seats. She barely gave them a second thought as sneakered feet met gravel shoulder. Jack got out…was right this very second tearing up the streets of Ottawa…might even be in her _home_… No _way_ she was going any farther unless her rifle and her bat were within reaching distance. Dude was _not _getting the opportunity to swing on her again. Period.

* * *

She looked good, real good. Better than he'd ever seen her in all of his short life really. Oh sure, there were still some pretty dark rings around her eyes and she was about five shades paler than anyone ever should be… but she was _there_. She was right there in front of him and she wasn't high, and she wasn't itching for a fix and for once she didn't have to fight to keep him safe.

So yeah, okay. The day before had been really weird. Oh and that Dean guy? Something was definitely off with that guy. Big time. That girl of his was… well she was freaky was what she was. Jace was ready to overlook that though, if it meant he and Maggie could just relax and know they were safe for awhile. Of course, Maggie didn't see it that way. Guess that's what made her the big sister. She wanted to protect him. These strange people? Yeah, they just weren't cutting it for her.

"Come on Jace, hurry up. We've gotta hit the road before they realize somethin's up."

She was stuffing what little they had back into the backpack that held the few things in the world they owned. Pretty sad really.

"But Maggie… I kinda _like_ those two. Dean especially. He's a good guy. Really."

He was sitting on the bed just watching her as she flitted around the room.

"You think so do ya? Tell me something Jace: How long have you known this guy?"

"Dunno, since yesterday…"

"Yeah. I figured. Wow, a whole day. Guess you guys are pretty tight, eh? Seriously dude, what happens if this Dean guy decides to let loose on us like Dad huh? He's a whole lot bigger and God… you saw him shooting those guns in the range out back, and that Cal chick with her knives."

He watched the full body shudder that took hold of her. Hard to admit she had a point. There was just something about those two. As much as he wanted to believe they'd finally found the help they'd always hoped for… well Maggie had a point. The only safe thing for them to do was to put a whole lot of distance behind them. So that was it. They were going to put a whole lot of distance between them, Ottawa and this Winchester/O'Sulivan freaky little duo.

"Hey Mags… you think we can yoink a bag of M&M's for the road?"

Maggie grinned down at him, clear eyes reflecting all the love she had for her kid brother.

"Nah kiddo, we're yoinkin' _two_ of 'em. The way you pack those suckers away I won't even get to taste the one."

Shouldering their bag and taking one of Jason's hands in hers she led the way. The old folk were away and it was time for them to hit the road.

She didn't see Jason slip the walkie talkie out of his pocket and let it drop to the floor. Didn't hear it hit the ground either thanks to the thick carpeting. She wouldn't have understood. Jace was keeping the option open. If something bad happened (and hell, didn't it always?) it really couldn't hurt to have a quick way to get hold of these guys who had been nothing but good to them so far.

Cal and Dean were still out in that barn with the big locks on the door and the house might as well have been empty as they snuck their way down the stairs. The big burly guy that looked like a trucker who'd lost his semi, he was snoring away on the couch. Dead to the world that one.

It was nothing to sneak past him, raid the kitchen cupboards and finally leave the farmhouse for someplace safer. So incredibly easy after the group homes, the foster homes and their parent's places that they both fell down laughing right there on the side of the country dirt road when they finally got far enough away to feel safe.

Faces full of chocolate and big cheeky smiles they walked hand in hand.

"Where're we gonna go Mags?" he asked her, suddenly feeling every bit the eight year old he was.

"Anywhere but here Jace and far, far away from Ottawa."

* * *

Y'see the thing about Jack was…well he has this 'control freak' side to him. Can't stand to not have final say. Likes to be the one to make the rules. Doesn't play so well with others either, unless their doing as their told.

One big problem there though because as of that moment back at the police station he had absolutely no control over anything whatsoever, including his own body. Jack right now? Not a happy camper.

Of course, that's how the demon liked its victims and playthings best. Miserable, helpless and preferably in pain. Two out of three so far. Not bad, right? The pain would come soon when he got poor Jack in the Winchester's line of fire. In fact, the odds were pretty good that their little hell cat Cal would want a bit of the action too.

Oh, he'd let them have their fun…for a little while. Get this useless bag of bones that was Jack a little roughed up as punishment for the trouble he's caused so far and then he'd destroy them all. The Winchesters, their women and their friends. Hell… you know what? The hell with destroying them. These were the _Winchesters_ they were talking about after all, right? Yeah, destruction just wasn't enough for those three… no he would _smite them. _There wouldn't even be enough left for a proper salt and burn.

Those damned hunters had no idea what they were messing with.

* * *

Fran had lost the driver's seat. Now that it was clear Sam was okay, John was itching for action. Dean was a lot like him that way. Driving let him feel like he was doing something productive. Calmed him, helped him center himself.

Sam and his girl had been relegated to the backseat again. Funny, he'd expected them to kick up a fuss about it. The girl at least anyway, given what her temper had been like since she'd got her memory back. Neither one of them complained though and that left John feeling a little uneasy. Speaking of uneasy… the way Fran was holding her sawed off shotgun and her bat was making him a little nervous.

His son though? Well his son just sat there, watching Fran carefully from the corner of his eye and looking thoroughly unimpressed by the current situation. Whoever this Jack guy was, John figured he had better just stay hidden 'cause those two? Well right now he was pretty sure they were capable of tearing the guy to shreds just for showing his face.

Time was running out though. There was a demon on the loose and a vision prophesizing the death of the few people he held dear. Only one thing to do now as far as he could see. So John kept driving. Pointing the truck toward the farmhouse and hoping to hell they got back there before it was too late.

* * *

_Thanks for Reading : ) Please Review _


	18. Chapter 18

_**Chapter Eighteen**_

"Hmm." It was a contented little hum coming from deep down in Dean's chest. Cal's eyes were still closed but she could _feel _that self satisfied little smirk that currently graced those sinful lips of his.

"So She-Ra, how d'jya like _them _apples?"

Okay, so what was it about men and mind blowing sex that made them act like God's greatest gift to all of woman kind?

"Funny Winchester, real funny. I'm, ah, pretty sure that thing we just did had nothing to do with any kind of apple though."

Low rumble under her ear that she was pretty sure had to be a chuckle.

"Say what you want Cal but I think it oughta be said for the record: This particular side effect of this whole 'touched by a fairy' situation is something that Casey dude definitely deserves kudos for."

Now it was Cal's turn to laugh because that was finally something they could agree on.

"Alright, okay. I get it. You're enjoying this whole 'sex God' status of yours. Fair enough. But dude, we're going to have to straighten ourselves up and head back to the house. Those kids'll be wondering why we've been out here so long… and I don't see Bobby being the type to enjoy babysitting."

Well okay, she had a point. He couldn't resist one last kiss though. Unfortunately with this mischievous side of his now cranked up to a hundred fifty percent there was no such thing for them as _just one. _

So yeah…they probably ought to get back…probably…but Dean had other ideas in mind. The kind of ideas he'd discovered that as of this morning Cal just couldn't say 'no' to. Hey, he was no fool. Dude was going to milk it for all it was worth…. So yeah, it looked like they were going to be just a _little_ while longer.

* * *

Dennis was so far beyond pissed off he was damned near homicidal with it. There wasn't a square inch of him that didn't hurt like hell and it was all because of that Casey guy (thing?) and of course that made this all Margaret's fault. As if being beaten to within an inch of his life wasn't bad enough, he woke up in hospital to the news that _both _his kids were now missing. Jason had run off from the foster home Children's Aid had stuck him in and Maggie wasn't at Eric's anymore. If he'd been mad before, he was _furious_ now. Nobody took what was his, _nobody_. A short chat with Jason's foster mother Mona and he was pretty sure he now knew who that nobody was.

He had a name: Brian Johnson, the Children's Aid worker. She'd given him a number too, one he was even now calling. He had a thing or two to say to this Brian Johnson guy…if that was even his real name. Dennis was willing to bet it wasn't.

Didn't take long, just two rings and then that voice answered. "Yeah?" The one he remembered threatening him in the alley the day before. The one that had been with Jason, the one that had asked about Maggie. He sounded pissed off and that suited Dennis just fine.

"Johnson?" The name came out an ugly snarl.

"Nah, Winchester. Dean Winchester. What do you want Dennis?" There was a guarded edge to his voice that spoke of caution. Naturally the guy wouldn't want to be found. Wouldn't want Maggie and Jason to be found. Beyond that though there was a warning there. A not so subtle 'watch yourself' underlying every word the man spoke.

"You know what I want Winchester. Those are my kids, _mine_. Where the hell are they? Where the hell are _you_?" He had a thing or two to say to all three of them and he wouldn't be using words when he said them either.

Now Dennis had been expecting any number of reactions from this Dean guy. Anger, fear, defiance… he didn't expect the guy to just offer up an address. It was a pleasant surprise, though it did nothing to appease the rage.

"You want those kids Dennis then come on over. I'm only gonna warn you once though: you're gonna have to go through me to get 'em and that's as close to impossible as you can get." A clear threat. One that had absolutely no effect on Dennis whatsoever.

"I'll be seeing you soon Winchester." That too, clearly a threat. One that made Dean laugh. Yeah, he was going to enjoy pounding this Winchester guy into the ground. A lot.

* * *

They'd been dozing when the opening chords of AC/DC's 'Back in Black' went off somewhere at their feet. Dean would've smiled at Cal's curse, muffled by pillow, if it hadn't been for the fact that Jace's sorry excuse for a father was the one calling.

It was sad really. The guy was trying hard to scare him. Intimidate him into getting what he wanted. Stupid really that he expected to just walk away with Maggie and Jason so he could beat on them again. No way Dean was going to allow that. Telling him that was going to be fun though… he might even get the chance to throw a few punches, land a few good ones that Dennis would feel for a good long time.

Without hesitation he gave up the address to the farmhouse. An open invitation to come and try. Just you try it man, and I'll show you exactly what'll happen to anyone who tries to hurt those kids. It was downright hilarious that this guy figured he could scare him into just giving them up. The demon scared the hell out of him… this guy? This guy was nothing. Dennis missed the laugh though, having already hung up. Probably already on his way over.

Cal's voice, sleepy and low, asking him if that was who she thought it was. He didn't even need the nod because she already knew the answer.

"Better get dressed babe. I'll bet he's already on his way." The hint of worry in the depths of her clear blue eyes completely eclipsed by the Cheshire Cat grin. She was already looking forward to a good scrap, minus the bulky wings.

"Go on ahead Dean. Warn them he's coming. I don't see them wanting to miss this."

That's about when Bobby came tearing across the yard, bellowing out Cal and Dean's names at the top of his lungs. The boy and his sister were missing. It figured. Looked like trouble had found them sooner than expected. So what else was new?

Cal was racing for the door. "I'll start combing the fields. They might just be hiding out or something. Kids do that kind of stuff…" because the alternatives just weren't an option right now even though she knew deep down that they'd probably run away.

Dean stopped her by the door with a hand on her shoulder and that annoyingly confident smile of his. "Don't worry She-Ra we'll find them and they'll be just fine."

Great. "Another one of your 'psychic boy' moments?" That whole 'I just know' thing of his was just a little unsettling and she really didn't like that feeling.

"Nah, we're just that good."

She should have seen that one coming. He was right though. They were that good.

* * *

Maggie and Jason were about an hour's walk away from the farmhouse when they heard the telltale rumble of a car's engine coming their way. They dove for the ditch before it came into view. No way they were going to risk being spotted and having to go back. This was their big break for freedom after all, right?

Good thing they did too. As it turns out the car belonged to Dennis, their father. Somehow he'd managed to track them down. Looked like they'd managed to sneak away just in time.

"Hey, what do you think Dean'll do when Dad shows up on their doorstep Mags? I heard Bobby say somethin' about them sitting out front on the porch with shotguns to scare people off last week…"

It'd be something to see, someone scaring the heck out of Dennis the way he liked to scare everyone else.

"I have no idea Jace…I'll tell you what though, I'm hoping he's the kind to shoot first and ask questions later 'cause I'd really like to not have to worry about Dad showing up ever again."

Well yeah, that was one Jason definitely agreed with.

"Would be something to see though, wouldn't it? Dad all freaked out, running away and being shot at?" Okay, so yeah. It was a testament to how messed up he really was that the thought would amuse him… He'd hurt Maggie though and for Jason that was enough to justify it. The guy had it coming.

"Yeah Jace, it sure would."

And suddenly it was all okay because Maggie felt the same way. If he really was that messed up she'd tell him for sure. Instead she was smiling a far away smile and it looked like she was picturing exactly that: their father running away from a very angry, gun toting Dean.

"Come on squirt. We've got a ways to go before we're far enough away to not be found."

Just like that they were on side of the road again, headed God knows where the heady feel of freedom a tangible force between them.

* * *

Demonically possessed Jack wasn't that much different from regular, everyday Jack really. Well, except that he now had a lot more charm. That particular trait had never been very strong in the man. The demon though had loads of it to spare. Of course, charm had a nasty habit of going straight out the window when carefully laid plans blew up in front of you. Something like that usually involved seething rage…so now a very angry demon was inhabiting an even angrier Jack and they both wanted to lay hands on some Winchesters. At this point, any one of them would do.

A farmhouse was probably the worst possible place for these guys to hide. There were cornfields at the back of the house perfect for hiding in and demonic Jack took full advantage of it. A little reconnaissance before the demon made its move. So far they hadn't seen much. A couple of kids, that hunter Bobby Singer, that insufferable O'Sulivan woman and of course…Dean Winchester. Fortunately for them all when it came to Winchesters the demon preferred a full set so for now Jack settled for watching waiting. Wouldn't be long before the other two showed their faces. It was a pretty sure thing to assume the girl would be with them too.

Originally the plan had been to hide the woman until she had the child and then turn its powers against the Winchesters. There was just something about seeing those hunters destroyed by the very thing they were fighting to protect. It was the kind of thing demonic beings lived for.

But of course, they were dealing with John and his boys here. Winchesters had a way of stepping in and messing up the best laid plans… and this time was no different. It was sheer dumb luck that they'd run across Jack at the bar that night. So now the only plan the demon was interested in was the smiting of Winchesters in the most painful ways possible. All but Sam… he still had plans for that boy.

Jack was a squirming mess inside his own body, scrabbling around and trying desperately to move a finger, a toe…anything really. He'd even tried begging a time or two, tried dealing with the demon. Too bad he didn't have anything left to deal with anymore, what with his soul already having been sold and all. Still, he was making himself pretty damned annoying with all the whining and begging. It took a special kind of talent to annoy the hell out of a demon. One that Jack apparently possessed, no pun intended.

* * *

There was a sense of urgency now, as every breath they took brought them that much closer to the final fight. Anticipation hung unpleasantly heavy in the air around them, intensifying and growing the closer they got to the farm.

There were no words. No planning, no reassuring or vows to kick some demon ass and end this thing once and for all. It had all been said before. Only action remained. There was the loud rumble of the truck as it sped over the blacktop, eating up the miles and the soft sound of Pastor Jim's mumble of prayer. Sam seriously doubted that God (if he even existed) would spare a second thought to saving their sorry souls. That didn't really matter right now anyway.

Franny had him worried. For hours now she'd been alternating between staring out the window, deep in thought, and shooting questioning looks at him when she thought he wasn't looking. Something was definitely up there.

It was unnerving because the Franny he knew was outspoken. If she had a question, she asked it. If she had something to say she just went ahead and said it. The 'Kate' she'd been had been introverted and shy. Scared to speak or even look at something the wrong way. He didn't know what to make of this 'in between' state she seemed to have fallen into. There was a question in her eyes just begging to be asked but Fan was holding back.

Why the hell couldn't these psychic powers let him mind read every once in a while? Quietly huffing out a breath he tried to will himself to let go of the frustration and failed miserably.

"Hey John… you think we can make a quick pit stop at my place? Sam's got a book about possession with all sorts of protective runes in it that I think might help get us a bit of an extra edge…"

And that would be a book he'd already packed. A book he'd been reading the night before as she lay next to him, slowly drifting off to sleep. He opened his mouth to say as much and to ask her what the heck she thought she was doing… and then caught the warning look she shot his way.

Of course his Dad was all for it. The hunt was everything to him and if there was some key to killing that demon hidden somewhere in the pages of that particular book he'd want it. That would be why they pulled up in front of the bar a few minutes later.

"Make it fast." Was all John said as the truck came to a stop.

It was a ploy to get him alone for a few minutes. That much was clear. She wanted to talk to him about something… confront him maybe? But why? He was willing to bet it had something to do with those looks she'd been giving him.

"Well be right back John." Cool, calm and collected except for that flash of fire in her eyes. Great! She was mad about something. He was in for it alright.

She was waiting for him in the middle of the living room, glaring at the open doorway before he even stepped through it. Mad didn't begin to describe the fury she was just barely hanging on to.

"You've been holding out on me Winchester."

What? What the hell was she talking about?

"I don't know what you're…"

Oh but she wasn't having any of it. Hand on her hips she bared her teeth.

"Don't even try that with me. I want to know _when _exactly were you planning to tell me Sam?"

"Tell you _what_?" They didn't have time for this argument. There was a demon out there planning right this second the best way to kill his family and anyone who got in it's way. If she had a problem she was going to spill it all and _fast_ or he'd throw her over his shoulder and haul her back to the truck himself.

"God_damnit _Sam! How long have you known _I'm pregnant_?"

The guilty look he wore did nothing to improve her mood. Truth be told he'd all but forgotten about it… well that wasn't entirely true. It hadn't really seemed that big of an issue since the vision though. He'd just figured they'd talk about it later. After.

"Are you planning to answer me at all, or are you just going to stand there and look guilty?"

He remembered hearing something about mood swings brought on by hormones in pregnant women… none if it was good. Sam would never have though it possible that he would actually be afraid of Fran. But he was.

"Why don't we just, uh, sit down and talk about this?" he tried, hoping to diffuse the situation a little bit. She wouldn't like what he was going to say and he really didn't want her any angrier than she had to be when he finally spilled it.

"I'm fine right where I am and so are you. Start talking."

Oh boy.

"Okay, um… you're… I mean… well, uh… that night when we found you in that room… Jack told us after we exorcised him."

He could see her working it out, could see the gears working in her mind as she thought it through.

"Why didn't you tell me then?"

"Well at first you were… you were that Kate person. There was already so much for you to work through, I was afraid to add any more than that." Because she'd already been so broken, stressed out and scared.

"I figured when you got your memory back you'd remember… but then you did and you didn't say anything. I couldn't tell whether it was just because you already knew, you know, before all this…or if maybe you just didn't want to talk about it."

"I didn't know Sam. I didn't actually figure it out until I started thinking about the nerves I've been suffering lately… after your Dad took over the driving. I couldn't figure out why I've been throwing up." She hugged herself. "Then I started thinking about how Jack would shove me around and stuff but except for that one time he never actually _hit _me. Only makes sense that he'd have a reason for it."

The look on her face framed by still fading bruises had Sam's fingers curling into fists again, wanting to hit something… some_one _as badly as the night he'd found.

"I could've killed him for hurting you. _Wanted_ to. If Dean hadn't been there…" It was a low growl that had a cold shiver running up and down her spine.

"Is it… I need to know… do you even know… whose…?" No matter how she started to try, she just couldn't finish the question. The possibility of the baby being anyone's but Sam's too much for her to bear. Fran didn't remember Jack forcing himself on her, but that didn't mean the possibility wasn't there.

"She's _ours_ Franny."

Three words and all the anger drained out of her. There was hope there… and just the smallest hint of joy as if she wasn't quite sure she wanted to believe it yet.

"Yeah?" Because she had to be sure.

"Yeah." Because Sam absolutely was.

"You're sure?" Because she needed to be positive, without any room for doubt.

"Positive." And Sam was. He really was. That was all she needed.

He was wrapping his arms around her and cradling her head against his heart.

"I'm sorry I didn't say anything." The comforting sound of his muffled voice rumbling around in his chest.

"It's okay. I shouldn't have been so mad. I guess… it's been _tough_, you know? With everything that's happened. This was just… one more thing I guess. One thing too many." Which of course had been why he hadn't said anything.

"I know honey, I know. It's almost over now." If his vision was anything to go by.

"Hey Sam?" Her arms wound their way around his waist as her chocolate brown eyes met his. "We're going to be somebody's _parents_." The words held such awe, such sheer happiness that he couldn't help but smile and hold her that much closer.

"Yeah, we really are." God help the world but soon there would be a new Winchester to worry about.

The moment was broken by the sound of Sam's cell phone ringing accompanied by the honking of the truck horn.

"Grandpa John" "Uncle Dean" The spoke simultaneously, eyes sparkling with the laughter they couldn't afford to let loose.

"Hey Dean."

"Sammy. Where are you guys?" His voice urgent, obviously upset.

"We made a quick pit stop at Fran's."

"Good, you're close. Listen, get your ass back here man. Maggie and Jace ran off and Dennis is on his way. Could be here any minute. Him I'm not so worried about, but trouble has a way of finding those kids. We need to find them fast before the shit hits the fan."

"Wait… slow down. Who's Dennis?"

The question was met with a frustrated sigh of impatience punctuated by their father's honking outside.

"Dennis is their violent convict of a father. Just get a move on will ya?"

"Okay. Yeah. Ten minutes. We'll be there in about ten minutes."

"Make it five." It was an order in true Winchester fashion ending in dial tone because nothing less than obedience of said order was expected.

Looked like trouble was going to find them a lot sooner than they'd expected it to.

* * *

_Thanks for reading! Please review : )_


	19. Chapter 19

_**Chapter Nineteen**_

Maggie and Jace had never seen a sunset anywhere other than in the city. There darkness seemed to rise up from the streets until it reached the sky, swallowing up everything in between. Sometimes bright citrus colors would hang above the buildings painting everything orange and gold for a little while. Maggie had told her brother once that it reminded her of the green glasses everyone had to wear in the Emerald City in the Wizard of Oz book she'd read. Almost like someone was casting a magic spell on the city, making it look pretty and safe for that short period of time until the night came and exposed it for the harsh, ugly and unforgiving place it really was. That had been a long time ago, a year at least and Jace was pretty sure she didn't remember ever saying it anyway.

They're standing by the side of the road next to a giant field of wildflowers when they realize it's different in the country. It's like the sky is trying to outdo mother nature because suddenly it's a wash of color. Reds, golds, oranges, purples and lavenders around a bright sun that gets larger and redder the closer it gets to the horizon. There's a moment there, just as the sun first touches the earth, that everything just stops. A moment when time literally stands still. Birdsong that had been fading steadily stops entirely and there's nothing but the soft sound of Maggie and Jason's breathing as they stand there and watch this transition between night and day.

Maggie is awed by the simple, innocent beauty of it and wonders if maybe this is what heaven looks like. Jason thinks that if you could see love it would look something like this sunset because the only thing he's ever seen anywhere nearly as beautiful is his sister.

There's a subtle shifting between them as they just stand there and watch the day end. They move a little closer to each other as their thoughts run rampant. Neither can help reflecting on the events of the past day and a half and inevitably their thoughts bring them back to the farmhouse they'd left hours earlier.

"You know… you were pretty messed up yesterday when Dean an' I found you at the bartender's place." Jason's voice, respectfully hushed to avoid breaking the magic that seemed to surround them.

"Yeah, I guess I kinda was, eh?" Regret and shame tinged her words and he decided right then and there that he hated the sound.

"Everybody makes mistakes Mags. Things've never been easy for us… way harder for you then they ever were for me I think. Yeah, you messed up. Big deal. You can't hate yourself for being human."

Just yesterday the kid had been toddling around in diapers that Maggie herself had put on him. Now the kid was imparting pearls of wisdom on life… and making seriously good points too.

"Dude, when the hell did you get so…"

"Smart?"

"Yeah."

Jason shrugged. Not all adults were awful people. He'd picked up a lot here and there over the years. Enough to know what he wanted to be like when he became one himself. Maggie shook her head at his lack of answer and turned back to watch the sunset again.

"He carried you out to the car when you couldn't walk on your own." The unspoken words hung in the air between them: _He didn't have to, he wanted to. He cared. _

"Yeah." She didn't remember much from the day before but there was that sudden feeling of _safe_ when big gentle arms picked her up and cradled her close. Had Jason ever felt that before?

They stood there a minute more, listening to the crickets come to life as the first few stars blinked to life above them. Jason's stomach grumbled loudly, putting a smile on Maggie's face because he always had been all stomach.

"Hungry, squirt?"

Jason nodded then shrugged. Yeah, he was hungry but it wasn't a big deal. He'd been hungry before and probably would be again.

Except it _was_ a big deal to Maggie. She was going to make sure he didn't go hungry ever again. Turning away from the field she started walking back the way they'd come.

"Uh, Mags? You're going the wrong way…"

"No I'm not." She didn't stop and he quickly got the hint, falling into step beside her.

"I heard that Dean guy say something about barbecue and steak for dinner tonight…"

If they ran, and as of yesterday that's exactly what they'd done, children's services would come after them. No way they could settle anywhere with those idiots chasing them down. This Dean guy… and that Cal woman… they seemed to really care what happened to them. They offered protection and that was something Maggie and Jason had never really had before. Kinda stupid to walk away from something good when all that waited for them out there was a world of hard and hurting.

Jace's elbow brushed hers lightly, interrupting her thoughts as they walked on.

"I've never had steak before Mags… you?"

"Nope."

"Wonder what it tastes like…"

_Home_, she thought. _Home_, and _safe_.

* * *

He was on his hands and knees, half his body under a bed when he felt it. That bone deep tingle that ran up the length of his spine. The one that told him whatever it was that was going to happen was starting, and it was starting _right now_.

"Cal!" A shout followed by a muffled curse as he scrambled out as quickly as he could. "Bobby!" An uncontrollable urge to just scratch his own back as a terrible itch erupted just next to either one of his shoulder blades.

"Yeah?"

Two very different voices from two completely different directions. Well good, at least he knew they'd heard him and that they were both alright.

"We've got to gear up." _Something big's coming. _He didn't need to say it to be understood.

"Still no sign of those kids Dean." Concern just barely tinting Bobby's gruff voice as Dean took the stairs down to the kitchen two at a time.

"Might be a good thing. At least we'll know they're not in the line of fire right?" Cal's answer was far more comforting than the one Dean had on the tip of his tongue.

They were standing there, gearing up and strapping weapons on every available body part like a bunch of well trained commandos when the truck pulled to a stop by the front door with a spray of gravel and dirt. Good. Three to one odds are good, but seven to one were better. Then again, if Sam's vision decided to come true tonight the odds would shift a little. Seven to one, when a demon was involved, wasn't quite as promising a prospect.

The screen door slammed into the wall behind it as John and Sam came sauntering through it followed closely by Fran and Pastor Jim. Normal people would have flinched at the sound. Hunters weren't normal people though so there wasn't even a twitch among them. Cal just lifted her head long enough to make a 'you break it you bought it' crack before bending back down to the task of fastening her knives into the sheaths inside her boots.

"How long?" Their father's voice a comfort on strung out nerves that neither Winchester would ever let show.

"The call came in about twenty minutes ago. Takes about that long to get here from Ottawa so any minute now." Dean's voice just loud enough to be heard over the sound of Velcro as he adjusted the sheathed knife to his forearm.

"D'you find them yet?" Sam was reaching for the nearest rifle and Fran had dropped a large duffle bag on the table with a loud _thunk_. He was pretty sure they hadn't found the kids yet, it was too quiet for them to be here. Fact confirmed by Dean a moment after the question was asked.

"Nope, but I found this." Dean reached into his back pocket and handed him the walkie talkie phone he'd found. "Kid wouldn't have left it here if he didn't intend to use it. We'll find 'em when he does."

"Sam, any idea when that vision of yours is gonna happen?" This from Cal. She was all for a good fight and she was never one to turn down a hunt but she wasn't so sure she wanted to deal with both simultaneously.

The shoulder shrug wasn't the answer they needed. Nothing he could do about it though. There was just no way to tell for sure.

"It was here and at night, that's all I know for sure. Can't say exactly when it's supposed to happen, could be today. Could be three years from now. I just don't know." There was the quick snick and click of the loaded rifle closing again before he checked the sights.

"Well that's not entirely true Sammy. Those other ones all happened within a day or so of you having them so I'd say however it plays out it'll either happen tonight or tomorrow." Those damned visions might freak him out but Dean had seen enough of them by now to have the pattern down.

"Okay then, so let's get rid of this Dennis creep, fast. I don't know about you guys but when that demon gets here I'd rather be able to give it my full, undivided attention."

Yep, that was his Cal alright. Already craving the fight. God but he _loved_ that woman.

It wasn't until they heard the familiar crunch of large wheels on gravel that Dean realized something was wrong. His father hadn't taken charge like he usually did. He'd just stood passively by and waited, watching his sons carefully. Something wasn't right but he didn't have the time to think it through and figure it out. It would have to wait. That wasn't necessarily a good thing.

The itch between his shoulder blades worsened with the new arrival, turning into a slow burn that left him feeling like the skin on his back was splitting open. Ignoring it as best he could (which wasn't saying much at all) Dean braced himself for the fight.

Dennis wasn't any more impressive than he had been the day before. Bruises covered every last inch of exposed skin from his encounter with Casey. He was doing a good job of covering the limp in his right leg as he approached the house but not good enough that it wasn't noticeable all the same. Dean's smile was all bared teeth as he watched the man approach. There was no mistaking the grip of the Glock sticking out the front waistband of his pants. The guy was here for a fight alright and if that's what he really wanted then Dean was going to give it to him.

John, Jim and Bobby sat down at the table, apparently intent on loading and readying the weapons that hadn't yet been snatched up. Fran was pulling back the lace café-style curtains above the sink and propping the business end of a rifle on the sill. Dean positioned himself at the top of the porch steps, Sam standing a few feet behind him to the right and Cal taking up the doorway her baseball bat in hand. It felt so spaghetti-western that she had the sudden urge to laugh. Next thing you knew Dean would be spouting a 'howdy partner' with a southern accent and there'd be gunfights at high noon. That thought was cut short by Dennis' voice, still raw from his fight with Casey the day before.

"I want what's mine Winchester." Dean supposed that angry snarl was supposed to be intimidating. It was meant to be. Too bad it wasn't in the least.

"Nothing here belongs to you Dennis." Well he wasn't lying, right? Even if the kids hadn't run off…they stopped being his the second he'd set his hands on them as far as Dean was concerned.

"I'm not leaving without 'em." Those were fighting words, right there.

"Oh, I disagree." Cal's steel edge voice was accented by the '_tap tap-ing'_ of the bat in her hand and the sound of her footfall as she came up to stand next Dean.

Dennis snorted. "You think a little wisp of a thing like you is going to scare _me_?"

Well now, _that_ did it. The guy was officially the biggest idiot in the universe. Ever.

"I'd be careful how you talk to her if I were you man. She's got a healthy ego that bruises easy and some major anger management issues." Dean was a fair guy, he'd let him have fair warning.

Of course, it was his own damn fault if he didn't take the warning and run.

"I want those kids. They're coming with me, tonight. _Now_. Even if I have to go through the lot of you to get to them." Dean could hear Cal's thoughts as clearly as if they were his own. _Hm, suicidal much_?

Another side effect courtesy of Casey's little gift? Maybe he just knew her _that _well.

They were all startled by the single shot that was fired from the kitchen window when Dennis moved forward just enough to take another step towards the house. A warning, Fran style that had Sam grinning from ear to ear.

"Hate to break it to you but you're a little outnumbered. The smart thing to do right now would be to turn around and leave. You look like you've had enough trouble to last you awhile." Sam this time, tone dark as midnight and rough as that beard he hadn't shaved off yet. If danger had a voice Dean was sure it would sound just like that.

Hands were balled into fists at his sides, itching to be used as Dennis stared the lot of them down. He felt the warning hovering in the air. _Come on buddy, just give me a reason. _A twitch in the direction of that Glock was all it would take to set the hunters off. Desjardins' eyes were steadily assessing his options. Moving back and forth from Cal to Sam to Dean then to the gun just barely visible in the kitchen window and back again. He didn't like his odds, that much was clear though it still looked like he was going to give it a good old college try though. At least he did until the noise startled him.

"Jesus, how the hell many of you _are there_?" Eyes gone wide, darting from the field where the sound was coming from to where they stood on the porch.

A question left unanswered as the hunters shifted their focus from the man before them to the source of the sound.

There was something moving around in the cornfield. Dean could feel it, like a million little bugs crawling over his skin. There was just one word for it: _creepy_. Sam could feel it too, though it was more like the cold touch of a finger on his shoulder. It left him with an uneasy feeling. The kind that comes just before something really bad happens.

The cricket song that filled the air was being drowned out by the rustling of the stalks as they parted and flattened to reveal what was coming towards them. It was… it was just a _guy_. No wait, not just _a _guy… Jack. It was Jack… that _idiot_… Sam had known he show up eventually. Had suspected as much since they heard he'd escaped from jail. Yeah, _he would_ show up tonight of all nights… wait… there was something different about the guy's eyes…

Sam's heart stopped between beats. There was no mistaking the yellow glow. A low growl Dean was sure Sam wasn't even aware of came out through clenched, bared teeth. Dean hadn't seen the glowing eyes though, he'd only seen the man. From the looks of things Cal hadn't either because her eyes were still locked on Dennis. He must've moved too because now she had a throwing knife in hand and a warning in her eyes. It was like time just stopped. Not a move, not a breath, not a sound at least not until Fran got a good look at the guy.

The sound of gunshot was what got things moving again.

"You've got some god_damned balls_ showing your face 'round here Jack!" Fran was shouting from the window. The only thing keeping her from running out the door and at Jack being a rather large Winchester man. John shook his head and lifted a hand in her direction, a silent order to just stop.

"She's right y'know." A not-so-friendly smile in the demon's direction.

"Ah, John. What a pleasant surprise. I've been waiting a long time to set eyes on _you_ again. You and your wonderfully gifted boys."

"Mmhm." John didn't even bother with words choosing instead to level the Colt to a point just between Jack's eyes.

"You don't really think you can hurt me with that little toy gun do you?"

"I _know_ I can."

It was playing with them. They all knew it. That thing could've just 'used the force' or whatever it was the damned thing did and taken the gun from John, but it didn't. If Dean didn't know any better, he'd say the damned thing was _waiting _for something.

"Ah, my man Dennis." It was talking again. Distraction maybe? Some sort of misdirection until what he was waiting for came. "I gotta say, in my line of work I meet some seriously evil people, but you? You are one impressively twisted excuse for a human being." It was a compliment. One that very clearly stated there was a special place reserved for the guy down in hell when the time came.

"I mean, I've seen axe murderers with more morals than you man."

"So, what's it to you that I am?" God! The guy was an _idiot_! _Had_ to be to mouth of to a freaking _demon_ like that. Not that he actually knew that Jack was possessed, but that wasn't the point here was it?

There was hesitation in the guy's voice. More than that though, there was cold hard calculation. Dennis was weighing his options. He'd noticed their unease, their possible fear of this new guy. Dude was looking for a way to tip things in his favor. Things were going from manageable to really, really bad and they were going there fast.

"Well now, given your special… skills…I might be interested in offering you a position of sorts." The demon was in full charm mode now. Reeling a new one in, ready to enlist Dennis to his side of the fight. Only one way _this _could go in Dean's mind.

"Position? We talking a _job_ here?" A hint of disbelief in the cautious question because, seriously? In what universe did you show up at a strangers place, ready to hurt people to get to your kids and get offered _a job?_

"That's right Dennis, a job. One with lots of interesting fringe benefits including the opportunity to hurt these guys as much as you want in ways you'd never even dreamed possible."

Dean couldn't believe what he was hearing. None of them could.

"Okay. I'll bite. What kind of job we talkin' here?" No surprise that Dennis would be interested. He'd found what he'd been waiting for, his shot at tipping the scales. Or rather, it had found him.

"Of course, I figured you might want to know what exactly it is I have in mind. Tell you what though, I like you Dennis. So I'll do you one better. How about I _show_ you?" and with that Jack took a step forward. Fran shot off another warning but it was already too late. Jack's mouth was open, head tilted up towards the rapidly darkening sky a black cloud of evil spewing out of his body and into the night.

John's reaction was instantaneous. The gun was smoking in his hand before anyone realized just what he'd done. The Colt's final bullet lodged in Jack's heart a moment too late. The demon was already invading Dennis' body. Angry purple clouds churning frantically above them, lightning in the distance a physical sign of the storm that was upon them. Yellow eyes flashed at them, bright and dangerous from behind day old bruises mimicking the lightning in the distance.

"Now what?" Dean's growl barely heard over the loud roll of thunder. Freak thunderstorms, the demon switching bodies, Jack dead. Well at least now they only had that idiot Dennis to worry about… and that made things what? Easier? Ha, right. With the yellow eyed demon inside of him. No. Definitely not easier.

Sam was moving forward, Dean could feel him as if he was surrounded by some sort of freaky forcefield or something. It brushed his arm as Sam stopped beside him, rifle up and pointed at Dennis. The two brothers a united force, their front line of protection against the demon.

"Aw, isn't that sweet. The Winchester boys all armed and ready to protect the people they love. John, you should have taught your sons better. You of all people should know just how useless this little show of theirs really is."

As if to emphasize its point it sent John flying over the porch railing to the ground at Dennis' feet.

"_Dad_!" Sam and Dean's voices three shades darker than they'd ever been before, both of them already running across the yard towards him.

"_Christ_." Cal, swearing under her breath; the words '_this is bad, really, really bad' _echoing through her mind as she followed them, just a few steps behind. Fran shouting at Dennis from the porch steps, business end of her rifle now pointed straight at that spot between his' eyes. Something in Latin, though none of them could make out exactly what it was for sure. Bobby and Jim were sneaking out the front door, intent on circling around the house and cutting through the fields to get the jump on the damned thing before it did too much damage. All of it in vain though. Not a single step any of them took would make a damned difference at all.

John's boys watched, pride filling them as their father lifted himself to his feet to face the monster that took their mother and look it boldly in the eye. Pride turning quickly to horror as he lifted the Colt again and pressed it to the spot just above Dennis' heart and pulled the trigger. The loud rapport of gunshot filled the air and the possessed man just stood there as he sent John soaring up into the sky. A bolt of lightning shot out of the maelstrom above them as if on command and skewered the older man, sending him hurtling back down to earth. His prone body coming to rest in the short distance between Cal and the boys.

"_NO!!_" Dean's voice so loud in everyone's ears that it echoed among them and out through the night. He wouldn't remember swiveling around, wouldn't remember taking those last few steps or falling to his knees at his father's side. Didn't matter how he got there anyway. All that mattered was _now _and _Dad _and somehow getting the hell away and to a hospital before he died.

Somewhere behind him Sammy was shouting at Fran to stay right the hell where she was. To get in the damned house and stay there. That tangible force Dean had felt earlier _that much_ stronger, crackling in the air like static electricity though no one seemed to notice it right now with everything happening at once.

"Dean! _Watch out_!" Cal's frantic voice his only warning as another bolt of lightning hit the ground right next to him, barely missing its target. Didn't matter. He wasn't goddamned _moving_ until he _knew_. God please, _please _let him _not be_…

"Dad?" Hand on his father's chest, willing him to just… just _breathe_. Eyeing the charred, blackened flesh that spread out from his shoulder where the lightning had hit as it smoldered. He almost jumped when he felt the rise and fall under his fingers. "Dad!" Shaking him lightly, his only goal in life to get his father to open his eyes again. His aching back making it nearly impossible to move at all until hard brown eyes opened and met hazel ones. Oh God. Oh thank _frigging God_! He was awake, he was _alive._

"Oh John. You're more stubborn than I pegged you to be. Thought for sure you'd be dead before you hit the ground. Well, we'll fix that soon enough. First though… first Dennis here wants to have a little fun…"

The demon didn't get to finish its rant though because Bobby and the pastor came charging out of the corn fields in opposite directions, headed straight for Dennis. Fran hadn't stopped with the Latin and it was starting to really piss the demon off. Bobby and Jim simultaneously showered him with holy water and set down salt, trying to at least contain the beast within the man. In the end it didn't really do much good. Loosing patience the demon boomed out an "_enough!_" directing its attention to Fran now; an invisible force shoving her hard so that she was slammed up against the farmhouse wall. Unconscious she slid down into a heap on the porch.

Sam wanted to scream. He wanted to run to her. Wanted nothing more than to make sure she was still breathing. Still alive. Still okay. He wanted, _needed _to go to her… but he couldn't _move. _Could only watch as Cal raced toward her, screaming her name… screaming _his _name and for him to get his ass over there right the hell _now!_

That Dennis guy was laughing – the evil cackle creeping up Sam's spine making his skin crawl. Why the hell would it hurt her when she was carrying exactly what it wanted?

"Oh Sammy." the voice in his head now, laughing at him even then. "Why would I want to put all that work into _a child_ when I've got exactly what I want right in the palm of my hand?"

The vision hit him hard and fast this time. Burning it's way through him. Bobby, Jim, Dean, their Dad, Cal and Fran… all of them dead… and the demon… the demon free to unleash it's fury on the world. The pain excruciating, tearing him apart on the inside until finally the vision was over and he was pulled into blissful oblivion.

Dean was scared. Full-on panicked by the fear of watching that yellow eyed freak pick them off one by one like they were nothing at all. Dad was alive though. Dad would know what to do. Together they'd get everyone out of this, alive.

"Dad. Dad, you've got to get up. We don't have much time…" Sam was falling to his knees… no, falling to a heap in the dirt as John's hand came up to grip Dean's.

"_Sam_!" The name barely passing his lips when Bobby and Jim were sent soaring into the side of John's truck. How the hell was this _possible_? Seven to one odds, down to two. Their chances of survival were looking slimmer with every hunter that hit the ground.

Gripping his father's hand tightly Dean tried to pull him up, get him out of the line of fire _fast_ so he could head back and get Sam too. John didn't budge though, just pulled Dean down a little closer so he'd be heard.

"Don't bother with me son."

"What?" Confusion melding with the fear. Dean suddenly looked very, very young.

"I'm not making it out of this Dean. You've still got a good shot at getting Sam and the girls out though. Bobby and Jim'll help you." Breath hitching as he spoke, voice thread bare and wheezy with the effort; the inevitable was clear: John Winchester was on the verge of death. Didn't mean Dean was just going to sit there and let him just lay down and embrace it.

"Oh no. _Hell no_. Almost lost you once to this damned thing, I'm _not_ gonna lose you now Dad. C'mon, get up. I'm getting us _all _outta here." Stubborn anger and determination: so typically Dean in a crisis. A pained smile found its way to John's lips. It was getting harder and harder to breathe. There was more and more time passing between heartbeats. Could Dean feel it under his palm? Feel the life slipping out of him?

"Dean, you move your ass and get your brother back to the house. That's an _order._" There just wasn't _time _enough for goodbyes. Letting go of his son's hand, he gripped the gun still in the other and rolled onto his side, taking aim in Dennis' direction. Dean could just stare on, wide eyed and in shock as his father fired the last shot he would ever take.

Neither of them got to see where the bullet landed or even if it hit its mark. John breathed the word 'go' with his last breath, turning to stare glassy eyed at the sky. Had Dean not already been on his knees he would have fallen with the sudden surge of pain ripping through him. Emotionally he was wrecked and physically… physically he felt like he was being split right in half from the inside out. Rage tore through him, a tangible tearing sound as the hate he felt for that yellow eyed freak consumed him.

Those who were conscious (Cal, Bobby and Jim) heard his haunting howl of grief before he fell the rest of the way, face first to the ground beneath him.

Sam's eyes opened and the first thing he was able to focus on was that sound; his brother's voice: unrecognizable and yet distinctly Dean's. He was facing Dennis now, who had been shot in the thigh at some point after Sam had passed out. Apparently he was too wounded to be of any use to the demon because it was spilling out of him the same way it had left Jack's.

How long had this fight been going on? Had it been minutes, or hours since it had all started? Impossible to tell now; the sky hidden as it was. The girls… Sam swiveled to see where they were. To make sure they'd made it to the protection of its walls. Walls blessed and protected from evil with runes etched into its foundations by old Jacob O'Sulivan himself. They were just inside the kitchen, Cal bent over Fran. Didn't look like she was conscious yet and there was something that looked suspiciously like blood staining the porch where she'd fallen. Coupled with Dean's howl of grief it was enough.

It had been building for awhile now. That powerful force within him that he tried to suppress, preferred to ignore altogether. Since Fran had disappeared he'd cared less and less about keeping it in check, about taking the time to keep it firmly leashed. Now… now everyone he'd tried to protect from this power of his were suddenly in danger. Suddenly whipping out that raw, deadly power seemed like the best idea he'd ever had.

Dean let out another howl and Sam felt the very air around him flex and bend to his will. Cal screamed Dean's name and a terrible renting sound filled the night as a huge pair of beautiful black wings sprang straight out of Dean's back. After that everything happened fast. Almost too fast to process.

Sam was barely on his feet when the black cloud sped past him, shying away from the pulsing of raw energy that seemed to come right off him. Instead it went for Dean, whose obvious anger had consumed him so that hazel eyes had dilated to black even before the demon took his body.

The sight of it: that opaque cloud invading Dean's body was the most obscene, sickening thing Sam had ever seen. He wasn't ashamed to admit that it scared him either. That was his unshakeable big brother, their larger than life father dead at his feet, with immense black wings coming out of his back and God-only-knew what kind of other powers. And he was being possessed by the one thing that had ever managed to hurt their family.

It didn't last long though. It never really does, does it? Less than a minute and suddenly the man who had always protected him, the only person who had ever truly given him that feeling of 'safe' was the one thing that had ever scared the living hell out of him. Okay, so Dean's possessed by the yellow-eyed demon. Not good… not even close to anything resembling 'good'…but he had an advantage here. He just had to figure out how to use it.

He knew there was potential in him. Knew there were powers he'd touched on out of instinct that would be useful right now. Telekinesis, mind control… he just had to figure out how to _use _those so-called 'gifts'.

"Those powers of yours aren't going to do you a damned bit of good against _me_ Sammy." Dean, smiling smugly at him from a face twisted into something evil and _wrong_.

"Dean, you fight it boy. Fight it good. We'll get it out of you, just need you to fight it and buy us some time." Bobby was on his feet again. He and Jim recovered enough to give exorcism another go. Their target might have changed but they were hopeful that would work to their advantage. After all, if anyone could fight that thing off it would be Dean's stubborn ass.

"Bobby!" Sam watched as the older man ran towards them. Watched as he went flying back at the truck, followed closely by Jim and slamming into the truck again. Landing so hard that they left people sized dents in the metal of the truck's body. Sam knew without a doubt that they were down and out for the count. Hell, after that they'd be lucky not to have broken necks…or ribs… or spines. He just hoped they were _alive._

Dean was laughing. Full out, belly jiggling guffaws at the sight of all the weathered hunters littering the ground. It was a sound that had annoyed and warmed him in turn over the years. Never before had it sent chills down his spine.

"Hey Cal!" He was turning towards the house now, wings spread out and flexing. "Check out what our buddy Casey hooked me up with." Cal had dropped the baseball bat when she dragged Fran into the house. She was pulling the knives out of her boots now. She'd seen what he'd done to Bobby and Jim. No way she was going to let that thing into her home or near Fran no matter who it was possessing.

The predatory smile faltered when Dean stopped in his tracks about a foot from the front steps. They'd laid down a salt circle around the house as extra insurance apparently. It only seemed to annoy him. "Aw come on babe, a salt circle? With all the protective magic your Dad put into that house? I'm disappointed girl. Thought you could do better than that."

"Yeah, whatever you old fart. You're just pissed 'cause you can't touch us in here." Words spat out like venom, only making him laugh harder knowing full well how angry it made the woman to be laughed at.

"Sweetheart, I may not be able to walk pass the line you drew in the sand but who says I can't reach in and grab you?" Cal's eyes gone squinty, obvious doubt gracing the hard lines of her face.

"You're all talk you big freak." She was sure of herself. Knew she was protected as long as she stayed where she stood. So sure in fact that when Dean laughed out a "bet you wish I was" she just adjusted her stance, knives up and ready to fight even though she _knew _she didn't need them.

The demon was playing with her, dragging Cal and Franny both slowly forward. The magic in the house no match for the power he'd built over centuries… maybe even millennia. Somewhere deep inside Dean felt pride in how she fought it so valiantly. His She-Ra, not willing to back down even then when there was no real hope of fighting her way out of this. Heart sinking even as he watched the knives fall to the ground from hands she could barely control anymore. He was trying so damned hard to get control here, over his own body… but the demon was strong. Too strong even for the gifts Casey had given him.

Sam though… Sam could do it. He could feel his brother's power growing. Could see it in his mind's eye: an aura of light getting brighter with every move the demon made. Why the hell wasn't the kid _doing something?_

The answer was he couldn't. He was frozen from the shock of the sheer horrific nature of the events that were taking place. His mind was reeling, taking it all in and trying to deal with it all.

Cal was trying to physically shield Fran with her body. A useless gesture, they all knew it… but she tried all the same. Somehow she'd managed to palm a couple of her throwing knives. When Fran came to and moaned in pain Cal made her move, tossing the knives in one swift, graceful move.

They should have soared through the air. They should have sliced themselves a home in Dean's skin. They should have… but they didn't. A low growl from Dean and in the blink of an eye they were heading straight back at Cal. Sam had the sudden flash in his mind's eye of Cal lying prone on the ground, one of the knives lodged in the side of her neck and the other in her heart. One hand went up and it was too late to stop them altogether but a mental push and they landed in far safer locations… or at least he hoped they did. They hit home in her shoulders instead.

The demon must've felt Sam's move because even as Cal was sinking to her knees it sent her flying through the air until she hit the first available big solid object. One of the porch posts. She was out cold before she even touched the ground. _And then there were three…_thought Sam. Or rather, two because one possessed Dean didn't really count as one on their side, did it?

Two Winchesters, facing off against each other. Each with their own set of freaky supernatural powers. One possessed, one possessing demon's blood within him. Sam knew right then and there that there were only two ways this could go. Either Dean won and the whole world lost…or Sam won and maybe they all had a chance at surviving the night.

It was like reaching out a hand, like he imagined Luke Skywalker, Yoda and Ben Kenobi used the force in Star Wars. He was lifting Dean up into the air and reaching inside him to touch the dark cloud that had taken him over. It was scrabbling for a hold as Sam tried to part it so that Dean could come through. He felt the subtle shift as it made it's last move. It's final attempt at holding on.

Franny was awake. Both boys could feel her just as clearly as if she were a part of them. She had started in with the Latin again, clearly an exorcism. Paired with what Sam was attempting the demon knew it didn't have long to act and regain the upper hand before it lost.

"Hey Sammy, wanna see another neat trick?" Dean's patented smirk shining out through the evil that still tainted his features.

It was like being hit with a brick wall. The force of the invisible blow sent him reeling backwards into the field. Fran's scream echoing out so that he was sure the whole universe could hear her pain. She was clutching her stomach, tears streaming down her face, never letting up with the Latin. Easy to see she wouldn't make it through, that she didn't have much time left before the demon decided to kill her too. Something snapped inside him then. A storm as brutal and violent as the one that was brewing in above them unleashed and directed straight at Dean and more specifically the thing inside him.

"_Leave Fran alone and get the hell out of my brother_!" A snarl that came out low and dangerous and yet boomed around them, making windows rattle and the ground shake. For the first time since it revealed itself the demon showed fear. Seemed little Sammy had just grown into those powers it had given him. Somehow this wasn't how things were supposed to have gone.

Fran was on the ground, curled up in fetal position eyes closed and barely hanging on to consciousness. The Latin was whispered now but she never let up. Somehow knowing that if she did then Dean wouldn't have a chance at surviving this. Sam was reaching inside Dean again with invisible hands, physically pulling the dark cloud that was the demon out, feeling Dean push against it. Trying desperately to help force the thing out.

Impossible to tell whether Dean's strength was his own or another one of those gifts from Casey, but the more Sam tore at the thing the stronger his brother became. The battle between good and evil inside him mirrored in the sky as lightning and thunder raged on among roiling, twisting pitch black and purple clouds. Twisters drifted down, attempted to touch ground only to evaporate before they got halfway there. Fran drifted off into nothingness finally as the last 'Amen' left her lip in the exact moment Sam felt the evil let go.

Dean was on his knees for the second time that night, the third person that day to have a demonic presence leave his body. He could see his brother from the corner of his eye, intent on nothing more than getting to Fran's side now that he knew Dean was okay. Positive that Dean would take it from there because that's just what he always did. He was right too.

One look at the bodies strewn around the yard, one look at the mess that thing had made of the place that was the closest thing to a home he'd ever had, one look at his father lying dead on the ground and Dean let that anger take hold again and grow.

The demonic cloud had been inching closer towards Sam and Fran, its intent clear as Dean became stronger. When he moved towards it though, it slowly started to back away; unwilling to back down but not quite suicidal enough to give possessing Sam a go. The closer Dean got the higher it drifted into the sky, trying to gain some ground. The sight of him, in the air… actually _flying _and facing down the scariest most evil thing they'd ever had the need to face off against just blew Sam's mind. He was so taken by it that he never saw it coming. A huge branch knocked right out of its tree came hurtling towards him from behind and now Sam was down and out for the count too.

Hours. It had definitely been hours since the whole mess had started. Had to be past midnight by now at least. Hours of pain. Hours of watching people fall, unconscious or dead… people he loved and was charged with protecting in various states of just barely hanging on to life. Now he was down to the last stand. Their last hope of winning this…and it was so damn close he could _taste it_. Problem with that was he was loosing strength fast.

There was a vortex of some sort, a swirling dark gate to hell just waiting to take the yellow eyed freak back. All it needed was a good shove and he was sure it wouldn't be able to fight the pull. One last good shove… yeah he could do that… he hoped.

Never one to do anything halfway Dean reached out with everything he had. Both hands sinking right into the ugly black mass of demonic _whatever _and he was sending it hurtling towards the swirling mass of storm that would hopefully whisk it away _forever. _Pushing it the last bit of the way with that invisible strength he'd tapped into earlier from the inside he managed to stay conscious just long enough to see the thing get sucked in and the angry sky finally let loose.

Dean never felt his eyes close, but he did feel the cool air whip around him as he fell hurtling back down to the ground. He landed on his back, every last bone in his body jarred by the impact and on the thought that, yeah this was probably _finally_ 'it' for him he fell again, this time into nothingness.

* * *

_Sorry for the wait on this chapter guys. Got hit with a bad case of writer's block. Thanks Ty and Jill for the feedback, it really helped as you can see from the update : ) Can you beleive twenty pages in Word? LOL and more to come because there's stuff that didn't make it in this chapter that needs to be in the story before I post the first bit of the next sequel. _

_Thanks again guys! Looking forward to reading the reviews : )_


	20. Chapter 20

_Okay guys, this is it... the final chapter for Enter Darkness. It's alot tamer than the fight scene in that last chapter but all the loose ends are tied up. I kinda had to slow the story down a bit because the first chapter of the next sequel W vs O Renegade is full of surprises. I wanted to take it easy on y'all because Renegade is going to be one heck of a joy ride : D_

_So anyway, without further adieu here it is: the final chapter. Enjoy: )_

_**

* * *

**_

_**Chapter Twenty**_

It's true what they say about the journey home being longer than the one setting out. Maggie and Jason walked most of the night to get back to the farmhouse and even then didn't reach the long dirt road that led there until just before dawn. It felt like forever and eventually they both started to worry that they'd never get there. Not that they'd ever admit it to each other or anything.

There'd been a freak thunderstorm during the night. One that surprised them with its intensity. Luckily it had been far enough away that they were able to watch most of it from a distance but when the storm finally broke and the rain began to fall they were right in the middle of it. Normal kids would've tried to find some cover to stay dry. Maggie and Jace never had been anything like normal though so they kept walking. Invisible forces driven by their own need to feel safe again pulling them back.

The rain tapered off the closer they got until it stopped entirely. A sense of urgency overtook them when they started down the dirt road, racing each other the last of the way; both fully expecting to find three large, rough looking adults searching the fields for them. They felt badly that they might have worried these people who had offered them nothing but safety and help.

Instead of finding the place a blaze of light and activity as expected though they found it still and dark. None of the outside lights were on. The doors to the big barn that had been locked up solid the day before were hanging loosely open like a cavernous mouth ready to eat whatever happened to chance a walk past it. That was the first sign of trouble.

There were two big trucks at opposing ends of the yard. Their father's and another shiny black one with dents along its side despite how new it looked. Maggie was staring at the mess the cornfield had become when Jason started running again, towards the dented truck this time. He'd caught sight of Bobby laying on the ground next to it. Him and another guy… a priest from the looks of his getup. They were both so…still. He couldn't help the thought that they might be dead. What the hell had happened here during the night anyway?

"Is that… is that _Bobby_?!?"

"Yeah." The boy was digging into his pocket for the walkie talkie and hoping Dean had found it. Ignoring a look from his sister he turned it on and spoke into it.

"Hello? Hello! Is anybody there?" Hating that he sounded nervous at all, but really worried that Dean might be in the same kind of shape Bobby and the other guy were in.

"Hello? Dean… Cal? Anybody?" This was _so much worse_ than anything their father had ever done before.

Maggie was thinking that she was probably going crazy… maybe suffering from withdrawal of the drugs because she was sure she was hearing things. Jace was coming through in stereo from left and right. One side sounding removed and tinny. She was moving towards the sound when she tripped over her father. Although not proud of it, she was actually relieved that he might be dead. This was starting to feel like something out of a B-rated thriller.

"_Maggie_! Bobby's breathing… and the other guy too… but I can't get them to wake up!" Scared. Her brother was _really _scared. She didn't like it. Didn't like it at all. Wasn't much she could do about that yet though.

"Okay. That's good actually 'cause they're alive right? Keep trying to get someone on that thing, will ya? I get the feeling Dean and Cal'll want to know about all this." Though she had a strong feeling they probably already did.

Dennis was breathing too, though just barely. She didn't really know what had him hanging on to life except maybe he was just that stubbornly determined to get his hands on them. Jace started calling to somebody, anybody over the walkie talkie again and Maggie kept moving. She found the other one in the middle of the yard busted up and yet still somehow working.

She stood there, turning full circle, broken walkie talkie in hand and taking in the carnage all around her for the first time. The sky had begun to brighten and there was just enough light to be able to start making out what the shadowed shapes were.

The woman, Cal, was on the ground by the porch. Two small knives dug deep into either shoulder, wounds still trickling blood and a bump on the back of her head visible even from where Maggie stood a dozen or so feet away. Over to the right a ways were a very tall man with a beard and a shaggy mop of unkempt hair and a much smaller woman. They were lying in a sticky looking pool of goo that she could only _hope_ wasn't blood. Another man with a hole in his chest (gunshot wound?), very obviously dead just on the edge of the cornfield where the stalks had been flattened and ripped right out of the ground.

She didn't see Dean though until she turned to her left. He was lying at a very odd angle, half on his side and propped up by something large behind him. He wasn't moving. His eyes were just barely open slits but he wasn't moving. Not even a muscle twitch and above everything else that alone had the power to scare the living daylights out of her. He had one arm outstretched towards another man who lay next to him. This last man was much older than Dean. Maggie noticed, as she inched her way cautiously closer, that there was a strong resemblance between the two. The older man had a salt and pepper beard and a huge blackened burn mark across his chest. It was just a guess but she was pretty sure the older guy was his dad.

She was kneeling at Dean's side trying to get up the nerve to touch him when she noticed the tear tracks on his cheeks and the way his barely open eyes left the older man's face momentarily, just long enough to look at her. Dean was alive, she realized. He was _alive!_

"_Jace_!" she screamed "_Dude_, run into the house and call 9-1-1! _I found Dean_. He needs a hospital." The kid didn't even blink. Just got to his feet and started running. That was one thing he'd always done and done well. He'd always been proud of the way he could run.

Dean tried to speak then, as if he'd just noticed her there; his voice sounding hoarse and raw as if he'd been screaming the whole night through. Who knew? He may have, she realized suddenly…but that didn't really matter right now did it?

"C-c-can't m-move. Fe-fell." Well it sure looked like it, didn't it?

"T'sokay. Jason's calling for an ambulance. It'll be okay soon."

"M'I th'only one..?" he closed his eyes, unwilling to show his fear to this little girl. Unwilling to acknowledge the tears still so close to the surface.

"Um, Bobby's breathing and the preacher guy too. Cal's in bad shape but I think she's alive too. There's a dead guy by the field over there… and a scary looking guy and a woman over by Cal who look like they _might_ still be alive…" She didn't want to mention the older guy he was still reaching out to. Pretty sure he already knew that the man was gone.

There was a hitched sigh of relief that brought on a full body shudder. It was all he could do to contain the tears of sheer relief. Now though, now he _had _to move. Had to hide before the ambulances came. He had _wings_ for God's sake. Wings too big and odd to be able to hide.

"Uh, dude? Are those… are those _wings_?" She'd just noticed them. Big wide beautiful wings, so black they almost shone blue in the early morning light. Beautiful but very obviously broken having taken the brunt of his weight when he fell back down to earth.

"Yeah…they kinda are." And they'd just started to throb, a discomfort that only added to the pain that already wracked his entire body.

"Are they supposed to…? I mean… they're…" she looked worried, and no wonder. Poor kid. But she was reaching out to touch them too and he wasn't sure that was such a good idea.

"They're what?" Wasn't much time left. There were sirens in the distance. Help was on the way.

"They're like… _shrinking_… and like… _tucking_ themselves into your back dude. It's… _really weird._"

Well okay then. Maybe he didn't have to hide after all. Made sense though didn't it? He couldn't very well protect everybody looking like a freak show now could he?

She heard him mumble something about that 'stupid fairy' and how only that 'Casey dude' would have the guts to stick him with a set of wings before he passed out again.

The next couple of hours were nothing but a big blur of flashing lights and sterile rooms. There were just _so many people_ to keep track of. First came the paramedics all in dark blues, swarming all over the farmhouse grounds. The cops arrived a few minutes later and then there were white, black and yellow uniforms to keep an eye on. Thank God Jason had thought to lock up the barn again. He may not have known what was inside, but he had a pretty good idea that Cal probably didn't want just anyone nosing around in there.

Later, at the hospital, time slowed to a crawl while they waited for someone to come tell them what the heck was going on. Nurses in pastel uniforms or covered in absurd cartoons pestered them with offers of food and drink. Sure, they were something of a distraction and a way to keep track of time but really the incessant interruptions were just a huge annoyance. Their appetites had disappeared, what with the fate of their futures hanging in the balance. Finally Maggie had to tell them that if they were going to keep refusing to let her have coffee they might as well just leave them the hell alone. They had no interest in talking to anyone but the doctor _if _he ever finally decided to get his head out of his ass long enough to come tell them how many of their friends had survived.

She might have shocked them, you know… just _a little_ because they were left alone after that.

Sometime mid-afternoon a man in a suit came to speak with them. Jason recognized him from Children's Aid. The guy wasn't really that bad but he was on the enemy's team in the kid's eyes so they weren't really very cooperative. He wanted to know what had happened the night before and why they'd run from the foster homes. Maggie said nothing, preferring to stare him down with her most intimidating glare. Jason on the other hand, ever the mouthy one told him in no uncertain terms that he could stuff his 'nothing but kindness' act 'cause he wasn't saying a word unless Dean was there with them.

A strained smile and a lengthy moment adjusting his tie and the guy must've decided he'd be better off actually waiting for this 'Dean' guy because _he_ left them alone too. They wouldn't see or hear from anyone else until much later that night.

* * *

Cal woke rather unpleasantly to a throbbing headache, sore ribs and a nasty fit of dry heaving somewhere around dinner time. Well, at least she assumed it was dinner from the god-awful smell of the meal tray on the table next to her. Could be they were trying to kill her too though (you just never knew what was in that damned hospital food) so the jury was still out on that one.

The night before was a jumbled, nasty mess in her head but there were a few things that stood out clearly. John's death was the first, and it had her worried about Dean. Franny bleeding out as she dragged her in the house was the second and that had her wondering if she'd lost yet another loved one to the hunt. She remembered having her own knives turned on her in mid flight and then getting slammed up against her own home. She could feel the stitches, seven of them on either side. So, judging by the symptoms it looked like she had a concussion and some ribs that were bruised to say the least. Her arms were throbbing from the damned cuts but her legs seemed just fine. All in all she was doing okay. Hey, she was gonna live, right? Which was _way_ better than she'd been expecting the night before. So… now that she knew _she _was all good… it was time for her to find out what happened to the rest of their group.

Dennis, the unlucky s.o.b., was very medicated and occupying the other bed in Cal's semi-private trauma room. A little bit of pressure on that bullet hole in his thigh and a lot of 'insistent' questioning later he was _still_ sticking to the story that he had no idea what had happened to everyone else. She figured he _probably_ wasn't lying so _maybe_ it was time to continue the search elsewhere in the hospital. Of course, not before making the friendly observation that Dennis was pretty darned lucky that bullet didn't hit a few inches to the right… and yeah, she wasn't above warning the sorry waste of space that if he ever came sniffing around again he wouldn't be so lucky. "Because dude, I have _excellent aim_. Unless of course I'm wrong and you're not as attached to your 'boys' as I'm assuming you are…" She left that sentence hanging between them, absolutely _positive_ he'd make the right choice should this need of his to beat his kids return. Patting him one last time on his injured leg she made her point clear before leaving the room. You just don't mess with Cal O'Sulivan without suffering some kind of potentially mortal injury.

She was in the process of telling herself that _no _she most definitely _was not_ dizzy and that _yes _she felt perfectly well enough to search the hospital for those damned elusive Winchesters… and you know, she'd almost managed to convince herself… until her legs gave out and she found herself flat on her back in the middle of the hallway.

Lucky for the nurses who came running that she wasn't anywhere _near _full strength… and also that the doctor on call remembered her from the ER a few years back. He was pretty thankful that this time she was suffering from a head injury (unlike the claw marks he'd had to sew up the last time) because she was a whole lot easier to sedate when she couldn't fight him off. Poor guy had more than a few difficult patients in his trauma room today. He'd be lucky if he didn't run out of tranquilizers before morning.

The big scruffy American with the broken leg was bad enough. He kept trying to take his leg out of traction and walk around on it like it hadn't just been broken in two places. The doc was still amazed they'd managed to reset it without having to resort to surgery. If he kept it up though, the operating table was exactly where he'd end up. Which was just the reason why they'd been feeding him mild sedatives with the pain killers: to keep him off that leg...

Then there was the preacher. He and 'broken leg guy' were apparently good friends. God only knew their foul language was the same. They'd never heard a man of the cloth swear so colorfully (in three different languages no less) over a broken rib and a disjointed shoulder. At least _that one _stayed in bed. Were it not for Pastor Jim, the guy with the broken leg who refused to give anyone his name probably would've refused his meds and then they'd be in some _real_ trouble.

And as if having Caitlin O'Sulivan and the two Americans in his ward on his shift wasn't enough already… there were a half dozen or so police officers guarding a man in major violation of parole. Apparently this Dennis Desjardins guy was the man to cause their injuries in the first place.

So yeah, they were having an exciting night in the Ottawa General Hospital Trauma ward. Thankfully they'd been able to discharge the scary tall guy with all the hair after only a few hours. That one had been lucky, getting out of it with a sprained wrist and a mild concussion. Sam _Klein_ had plenty of reason to be upset. His brother Dean was in Intensive Care because they couldn't get him to wake up although there was no visible sign of injury. He'd been comatose since the paramedics had arrived on the scene. That had been over fifteen hours earlier. His father was dead, had been since long before 9-1-1 had been alerted to the emergency… and as if he didn't have enough to deal with his fiancée was currently in a state of threatened miscarriage with lacerations to her abdomen from God _only knew _what. It was clear he'd gotten off easy on this one, at least physically. It was also quite clear that the giant bear of a man would do some serious damage if they failed to fix his loved ones.

He'd been scaring the ICU and Maternity nurses and orderlies into coming down to check on the two kids that the police had settled into Trauma's only free room. Sam had tried to see them himself before heading over to see Dean and Fran but there were cops at the door to that room too and they wouldn't let him in until the kids told them their version of what happened.

Discharging him had been a relief. Let him go terrorize the Intensive Care and Maternity Wards for awhile. They had their hands full already.

* * *

Sam was going insane. This had been the day from hell, no _the week_ from hell…wait no, better make that the month from…or maybe it ought to be the _year_… oh, who was he trying to kid anyway? His whole _life_ had been a big waking nightmare.

He was in hour…um… sixteen of 'The Longest Day of His Life'; a day that had begun when he'd opened his eyes in the ambulance on the way over to this place. He spent four hours strapped in to a gurney because they wouldn't let him move until they knew exactly what his injuries were. By hour five he was ready to _kill someone_ if they didn't tell him what had happened to everybody. They finally got to him in hour six. Checked him out, wrapped his sprained wrist and ordered him to get some rest because of that mild concussion he'd received. Yeah, right. Like _that _was gonna happen.

They'd let him sit for a few minutes with Bobby and Jim and look in on Cal while she slept so at least he knew _they _were going to be okay. The cops wouldn't let him in to see the kids though. Not that it stopped him from strong arming the nurses into checking in on them and making sure they were okay.

Upstairs in the maternity ward Fran was drifting in and out of sleep. She'd survived, thank God…but things weren't looking so good for the baby. In fact, chances were pretty good that she was going to miscarry before the morning. He didn't really know how he felt about that yet, but they'd deal with it if that's what was going to happen. They were both alive and that was all that mattered. Together they could handle whatever happened next.

They wouldn't let him into the Intensive Care Unit at first. When Fran found out why Sam wouldn't leave her side to go check on his brother she shooed him away. "I'm fine." She'd said to him. "You're Dad just died for God's sake! You two _need_ each other. So go over there and _make them _let you in." Sure enough, that's exactly what he did. Turns out he had a better grasp on those psychic powers than he'd thought. He'd been going back and forth between Dean and Fran ever since. That had been seven hours ago.

Seven hours was one hell of a long time.

* * *

The social worker caught up with Sam up in Fran's room and he had some cops in tow. For a minute there Sam thought that maybe they'd caught on to their fake identities. He had nightmarish visions of getting hauled off to jail and having to deal with international law. Of course, then the guy opened his mouth and said something about Margaret and Jason Desjardins and how they wouldn't talk to anyone unless Dean was there with them. Okay, so what was _he _supposed to do about it? Dean was _comatose_ for God's sake!

"Well Mr. Klein, we were wondering if perhaps _you _might come down and see them. The sooner we get their statements the better. You see, I need to get them back to their foster homes…"

Fran was already out of bed, teetering where she stood on wobbly legs. "I'll go with you Sam. They've got to be scared out of their minds right now."

"_No_! No, _you're_ not going _anywhere_." She'd miscarried. They'd lost the baby and after the beating she'd taken the night before she was in no shape to go anywhere. He was afraid he'd loose _her_ too.

"The hell I'm not. Sam, the way you look right now? With the beard, the torn clothes and that death glare in you eyes? You're going to scare them even more than they probably already are." He was the _reasonable _Winchester, right? So reasoning with him, in theory, ought to work…right? Oh sure, _in theory_. Of course, reasonable or no Sam also had inherited the Winchester stubborn streak.

"No. You're in no shape to be running around. _Get back into bed_."

She was about to tear a strip out of him when the social worker surprised them both by bringing her a wheelchair to sit in. He shot a sympathetic look at Sam before explaining with a: "trust me sir, you're going to need all the reinforcements you can get dealing with those two."

And yeah, okay. Fine. He was outnumbered and Fran was coming whether he liked it or not… no way he was going to let this strange social worker guy push the chair though. That was _his _job.

* * *

It was just past midnight when the door to their room opened and someone other than a cop walked through it. The twin scowls on Maggie and Jason's faces when the social worker guy walked in again spoke volumes about what their life must've been like so far. There was satisfaction in seeing his disheveled suit and know that they were the reason he was still here at the hospital. They never did have much use for meddling adults, especially not ones who only _pretended_ to really care about the people they were supposed to be helping.

So yeah, the social worker was back, but it was the tall guy behind him that caught Maggie's eye. Not just because of the fact he was pushing a woman in a wheelchair either. He was every bit as scary looking as he had been back at the farmhouse. You could barely see his face for the beard and the hair. He had kind eyes though, ones that gave the guy from Children's Aid dirty looks whenever looked away. Couldn't be that bad then, could he? She liked him already.

Still, the enemy was in their midst and there was just no way she was going to show weakness. She was staring down Suit Guy when the words came out.

"Dude over there doesn't look like a doctor and I don't see any coffee... or Dean."

"Young lady, you are _sixteen years old._ Children of your age do not drink coffee." His holier-than-thou attitude were like nails on chalkboard to Sam. Fran could feel him tensing behind her. That fragile strong front he'd been hanging on to wouldn't last much longer as strung out as he was. So then, now it was her turn to take care of things. Give him a break for a while.

"Hey Sam? Why I thought I saw a pot brewing at the nurses station, you want to see if you can charm a cup out of them for me?" Surprised would have been an understatement describing the looks she was getting all around. Sam's mumbled "you sure?" greeted by a nod before she turned to on Suit Guy.

"You know I would have thought that _you _of all people would recognize that sometimes it's best to pick your battles. Especially dealing with young people." The man just stared at her, unsure just how he should react to this new turn of events. Yeah, Maggie liked her too. Actually, she thought that maybe she liked her _best_. That's probably why when Fran extended a hand to her and introduced herself Maggie didn't hesitate to take it.

"I know you kid've been waiting a long time to find out how everyone is and that you're both probably ready to head home and crash, but the police won't let that happen until they get a statement."

Home. Yeah, they didn't have one of those did they? And besides, they told the cops, the nurses, the doctors and the Suit that they weren't saying anything without Dean around. So Maggie's next question has expected.

"Where's Dean?" A question they could hear clearly echoed on the other side of the door by another familiar female voice. An angry one. Apparently the meds had worn off already…and apparently she was feeling better because she'd made it all the way down the hall this time.

"Dean's in the ICU guys. He…he isn't awake yet."

"I wanna see him." Jason's this time. Very obviously needing his hero to be okay.

"I'm sorry hun, but they'll only let his brother Sam here in there to see him. Tell you what though… if there's something you want him to know you can pass it on to Sam and he'll make sure that he'll tell Dean what it is as soon as he opens his eyes…okay?" It was killing her to sit there and see the fear in his eyes.

"But… it's been a whole day. He shouldn't still be sleeping, should he?"

Fran winked conspiringly at them and leaned in to take Jason's hands in hers.

"There's something you're going to learn really quickly about Dean: he's as stubborn as they get. As far as the tests show he's perfectly fine; barely even has a scratch on him from last night. I'll bet he's just really enjoying his nap." That got a smile out of the boy. Oh, he'd had a taste of Winchester stubborn. That much was clear by the knowing look in his eyes.

She wanted to get these kids home. Not to the farmhouse. The yard there probably looked like a slaughter house right about now… there wasn't much room in her apartment but it was comfortable and safe. These kids really needed that right now and they weren't going to get it in foster care. Not if _she _had anything to say about it.

Sam walked through the door a minute later, as Maggie and Jason were telling the story of what they'd seen and done that morning. God bless that Winchester Charm because he had _three _mugs of coffee in hand and a can of Coke for Jason. As if Maggie wasn't already completely taken with him, the cup of coffee was enough to send her into a fit of puppy love for the guy. Even better was the fact that he intentionally neglected to bring a mug of the stuff for Suit Guy and his cop pals.

Maggie and Jason told the whole truth to a social worker for pretty much the first time in their young lives. They'd run away the day before even though Cal, Dean and Bobby had been nothing but kind to them. They'd figured it was probably too good to be true and that they wouldn't get to stay even if it was. They'd changed their minds at dinner time and turned back. When the storm hit they got lost so they didn't make it back until just before sunrise. That was when they found everyone in the yard and called 9-1-1. That was it, the whole thing in a nutshell.

Now there were four adults standing in the hallway on the other side of the door deciding their futures… and they'd thought the prospect of Dean never waking up had been scary? This was so much worse.

Sam was shouting, Fran was reasoning and it sounded like Cal was tossing her two cents in from the door to her room all the way down the hall. Finally Sam was the one to come in and get them. "Come on guys. We're taking Fran back upstairs and heading home to get some sleep." A warning look over his shoulder at Suit Guy, daring him to challenge his decision. _Oh thank God!_

Well, far be it for them to challenge a good thing when it was offered to them, they quietly followed Sam as he wheeled Fran back down the hall. Cal was still standing in the doorway of her room and as the foursome passed her she made a big show of leaning forward and flipping suit guy off. No one saw Sam's big grin, but _everyone_ heard Maggie and Jason trying to hide their laughter behind him. Dean was going to be sorry he'd missed this.

Suit Guy (who would like everyone to know, for the record, that yes: he _does _have a name and it's Mr. Black thank you very much) had a feeling he'd be seeing a whole lot more of these people. If those Desjardins kids finally found someplace they wouldn't want to run away from though, it might work to his advantage. It would be a relief not to have to chase after them all the time anymore.

* * *

Dean woke up two days later. He said he didn't remember a damned thing about the night their father died. Sam saw right through him though. Oh, the mask he had on was convincing alright. All smiles, all the time as he joked and flirted with the nurses to piss Cal off for fun. But there was something in the depths of those seemingly dancing, mirth filled eyes that Sam had seen before. A haunted darkness that told Sam those memories were closer to the surface than Dean let on. His big brother was just hoping that by pretending they weren't there he wouldn't have to deal with them.

Confirming his suspicions, when Dean was discharged later that same day with a clean bill of health the first place he went was over to the Children's Aid office to visit Suit Guy. He was all about action and fixing the things he could when the things he couldn't change were out of his control. Before, when it had been just the two of them looking for their father he'd taken those feelings out on the Impala. This time there were two young lives he held the power to make better, and he was going to do just that.

Suit Guy (or _Mr. Black_, at least according to Fran. You know…whatever) had been to Fran's apartment to check on Maggie and Jason the day before. He'd mentioned that they seemed 'subdued' compared to earlier visits they'd had in foster care. Whatever the heck _that _meant. On the whole though they were happy. Sam had Maggie giggling over breakfast that first morning and Jason was actually checking his attitude with just a look from the older man. Looked like they might've actually found their place in the world.

Even still, you never really knew what you were going to get when you dealt with Family Services whether you were dealing with them in the US _or_ Canada. So for Suit Guy to have been expecting the Winchester's visit (or rather, the _Klein's_ according to their current ID's) and for him to have official paperwork drawn up and ready to have signed… well it was a bit of a shock. Almost a let down really that Dean wouldn't have the fight he'd been itching for. Except that he _would_ have a bit of a fight, because Dennis and his wife still had to sign them in order to make Sam and Fran official guardians to the kids. Now _that_ was a fight he was ready for.

A quick visit to Dennis' bedside (now all the way down the hall from Cal's because of a few unfortunate incidents over the past few days) and they had their first signature. Apparently he was scared of her, because all they had to do was mention her name and he was offering to give them whatever they wanted. Ah, that was his She-Ra alright.

Okay, so maybe it had a lot to do with the fact that Sam still hadn't shaved yet too… oh yeah, and the fact that Dean had brought his massive Bowie knife along for the ride probably helped a little. Who knew? All that really mattered was that they'd got him to sign on the dotted line…right? Right.

When he and Sam paid a visit to Mrs. Desjardins she was so drugged up that all they had to do was hand her the pen and the deed was done. Maggie and Jason now had an honest to God home with decent people who actually _cared_ about whether or not their wants and needs were being met. All in a day's work, right?

Except that at the end of that work day Sam and Dean faced their father's cremation. Pastor Jim had been discharged the day before. He couldn't do any of the physical work in the shape that he was in… but he did take charge of giving John his final rites. Sam and Dean were going spread his ashes where their mother had been buried. Sentimental maybe, but if you asked them they'd tell you it just made sense that way.

John Winchester's truck went to Bobby Singer. Seemed fitting to the boys that he take it. Dean would never drive anything other than the Impala and Sam… well Sam preferred to ride with his brother anyway. He and Jim left as soon as the hospital discharged them too.

Fran was the first of the girls to come home. She and Sam were worried about Dean and how he'd react to finding out about the miscarriage. They tried to talk to him about it but he'd just change the subject or walk away. There was just no telling how it was he felt about the whole mess or why he preferred not to know.

Given that Maggie and Jason were staying with them permanently now Fran decided to take a portion of the profits she'd made on the bar over the years and used it to buy a beautiful little house with a big yard just down the street. Okay, so maybe 'little' was a bit of an understatement. It was a two storey bungalow with a finished basement, four bedrooms, a study and a huge country kitchen. Smaller than the O'Sulivan farm, yes… but big enough for them to expand their family should they eventually decide they wanted to try again. For now though, Maggie and Jason were enough.

Cal was in hospital for two straight weeks. Mostly because she was so busy trying to prove to everyone she was okay that she didn't get enough rest to make the concussion go away. The dizziness, headaches and exhaustion did eventually subside though and the doctors were more than happy to ship her off to Dean's care as soon as she was well enough to leave. She quickly realized that the Caveman, when worried, was often far worse than some overbearing, pill pushing, wanna-be doctor.

"GET _TO FREAKING _BED_ CAL_!" They'd been at this particular argument for three days now. She was getting pretty pissed about it actually. Same time, everyday. She wasn't a kid for crying out loud. He couldn't just _make her_ go to bed at nine o'clock at night. It was just plain insulting he'd even _try_ to.

"Do I look like a six year old to you Dean?" Yep, there was that death glare… and Dean was giving as good as he got.

"The doc said you need lots of rest and sleep at a decent hour if you're going to beat this thing and you still haven't shaken that headache yet. You're popping that Advil stuff like its candy so don't even try to bullshit your way outta this. Get to bed!"

Testament as to how bad that headache of hers really was that all she managed as an answer was an elaborate eye roll.

"Fine Winchester. I'll let you win this one… but only because of the damned headache. You are going to owe me some serious sucking up in the morning. Oh, and chocolate." Because you just couldn't suck up properly unless it involved chocolate… at least not when it was Caitlin O'Sulivan you were sucking up to.

"Oh, and Dean? I don't want to be hearing any Led Zeppelin, Dark Side of the Moon playing while I'm trying to sleep… or I won't be held responsible for my actions. Wouldn't want to have to explain to the local authorities how one vinyl record might've 'accidentally' caught fire and set my corn field afire…would ya?"

Sure enough though a few hours later Dean was sitting on the front steps, staring out into the night… the record player in Cal's mother's sewing room with it's speakers in the window the lyrics to Pink Floyd's Breathe keeping him company as he tried to keep his inner demons at bay.

Cal crawled out of bed and to the open window and growled out something about a certain Winchester man having a death wish that made him chuckle quietly before turning the music down. One thing was for sure, he might be a lot screwed up over recent events… the loss of his Dad and the way things had gone with that demon…but there was comfort in the knowledge that things were finally starting to get back to normal. Or… you know… as normal as they'd ever get for Winchester and O'Sulivan.

* * *

_Hope the ending was fitting to the rest of the story. Looking forward to reading your thoughts and reviews for it. Thanks for reading guys! Hope to see you all in my future postings for W vs O: Renegade : )_


End file.
